The Story Never Ends
by Data Girl 3
Summary: The Bohemians continue their lives as they attempt to help out a new friend. However, in doing so, they end up getting seriously involved in a string of mass rapings and murders that has erupted in the city.
1. Prologue

"NO! You're not gonna do this! I forbid it!"

"Forbid? FORBID! You can't _forbid_ me to do anything, Roger Davis!" Mimi glared at the musician as the two argued down the street.

It had been almost a month since that Christmas Eve, when Mimi had almost died. She had spent the few weeks following that night in a hospital room. Everyone, especially Roger, had insisted on it, to make sure that she wouldn't come that close again. The doctors had finally announced the other day that she was stable enough to leave. Shortly afterwards, Mimi had decided to try and find another job. However, this news wasn't sitting well with Roger.

"I agreed I wouldn't go back to the Cat Scratch, Roger! What more do you want?"

"Mimi, you can't leave The Loft! You almost died, last month!"

"You were there! You heard what the doctors said! My T-Cells are still considerably high, considering how long I was on the street." Mimi tried to reason with her boyfriend, but with little luck.

"I don't care what the doctors said. You can't just go out and risk getting sick again."

"Oh, so in other words, you just want me to sit around in The Loft, not going out for anything? The way you did for a whole year? I can't do that! You know I couldn't survive like that! You can't tell me to do what you did!"

"Well, excuse me, Mimi, for being such a dumbfu…."

"EXCUSE ME!" A new voice calling out caused the augment to stop, as Roger and Mimi looked around for who had spoken. "Excuse me! Up here!" Looking up, they saw a young girl with extremely frizzy mousy-brown hair, leaning out of a third story window of the building they had been fighting in front of, currently waving down at them.

"Hi!" The girl called. "Listen, not to be rude, but we've got a little bit of a problem, here. You see, I've got a bunch of little kids up here, and I'm trying to get them all to sleep. But it's rather difficult when you two are outside shouting at each other. So, if it's not too much trouble, could you, maybe, take this fight somewhere else, or, at the very least, keep your voices down, and perhaps at a G-rated level? There are some choice words I don't want these kids hearing and possibly repeating, if you know what I mean. If you could do this for me, I'd be eternally grateful. Thank you for your time, and goodnight!" With that, the girl closed the window and disappeared. Mimi chanced a glance at Roger, and had to giggle, seeing that he was clearly stunned at being practically scolded by a total stranger. A second later, she remembered that she was still annoyed at him, and turned to walk off.

"Mimi?" The sound of Roger calling her name in an apologetic tone made the Latina dancer stop and look back. "Listen. I'm sorry. It's just that…. I haven't forgotten what happened on Christmas Eve. I almost lost you. For a moment there, I did. I'm… just scared of going through that again. I know I might have to someday, believe me, I do. But... I don't want to deal with it anytime soon. I'm not ready. Not when I just got you back."

"Roger," Mimi sighed as the two held each other close. "The doctors wouldn't have let me leave if they weren't convinced I was all right. All their tests showed my T-Cells count is still high."

"I know. I know." They stayed the way they were for almost a minute, with Roger occasionally kissing her head. "Come on," he finally whispered quietly. "Let's go home. Then, we'll discuss you finding a new job."

**

* * *

**

**AN:** Well, there's the prologue. I know it might sound weird now, but I wanted to start this story by showing what happened after the movie, and this is my first Rent fic, so please be patient with me. I promise this will start to pick up soon.


	2. The Call

"….Police are still baffled by the sudden disappearance of the fifteen year old girl, the third disappearance in less then a week. They ask anyone who might have any information to contact….." A small bit of a news broadcast could be heard from the open window of one of the many passing cars that were moving down Bowery Street, past Little Italy's Broome Street, and a bespectacled young man currently holding an old Bolex camera.

Sighing, Mark gave up on looking for something worth filming in this section of town, and began to petal his bike up the street. Ever since finishing Today For U, he had been trying to find something to match it. He had considered making some kind of continuation that would focus on his friends, but they were usually all off doing their own things, now. Still, he had plenty of time to think about it. Since quitting Buzzline, he had nothing but free time on his hands.

As Mark neared the corner, he was so lost in thought he only noticed the car that was pulling out when there was a second to spare. In a panic, he swerved his bike out of the way. However, in doing so, the front wheel got caught in a sewer grate, sending him tumbling onto the curb pretty hard. Before everything in Mark's line of vision was lost to the fog that was quickly overtaking him, he saw the hazy outline of someone standing over him.

"Are you okay?" A voice asked, a second before everything went black.

* * *

A discouraged Mimi walked up the stairs to The Loft. She had just been to another job interview, but the ordeal had been a disaster, just like all the others. After working at the Cat Scratch for so long, she had been permanently typecast, and all potential employers barely gave her a second glace.

As she entered The Loft, she immediately caught sight of Roger, leaning casually against the table. As he saw her walk in, he began to grin in the goofiest manner ever.

"What?" she asked. Instead of replying, he glanced away, the grin never leaving his face. "Why are you smiling like that?" Mimi demanded, getting a little annoyed. When Roger continued to ignore her question, she went off into their room in a huff. Seconds after she closed the door, however, the door opened up again, revealing Roger standing outside the room.

"Collins called a few minutes before you got back," he explained finally. "Apparently, the old dance instructor at NYU is retiring in a few weeks, meaning there's gonna be an opening."

"Roger," Mimi began slowly. "What are you getting at?"

"Collins put in a good word for you with the dean down there. They agreed to try you out for a week. And if they're impressed, then…."

"I got the job?"

"You got the job!" Mimi let out a squeal and launched herself at Roger, engaging in a full-on lip lock. Making their way to the couch, their hands began to slowly inch lower. Suddenly the phone started to ring. Mimi began to look up, but she was stopped by Roger. "Let it ring," he begged as his lips traveled to her neck.

"_SPPEEEEAAAAAK!"_

"Ha! 'Speak!' I like that! It's good! Really clever!" an unfamiliar voice announced from the answering machine. "Anyway, does anyone there know a… (Rupert, give me that!)… a Mark Cohen?" Roger and Mimi both looked up immediately. "Don't worry, I think he'll be okay. But he had a slight accident not too long ago, and hit his head. I know a doctor who does house calls, so he's going to come over to make sure he's okay. I'm just calling to tell you not to worry about him. But I also would feel better if someone came over to escort him home. I wouldn't want him to pass out again trying to go home by himself, you know? So if anyone hears this, you can come collect him in Little Italy, at the corner of Broome and Bowery." A second later, Roger and Mimi were out the door.

* * *

**AN:** Sorry to leave everyone hanging there. Just seemed like a good place to stop for now. The next chapter's pretty much finished already, so expect it soon.


	3. Emily

"Do you think he's dead?"

"Course not. See? He's moving."

"Maybe it's like that weird thing Miss Emily read about that one time, about how dead ducks continue to move if you cut its head off. You think?"

"Rupert, don't be morbid!" The sound of distant voices echoed through Mark's head as he slowly regained consciousness. Opening his eyes, he found himself lying in one of many iron cast beds inside a room that had its walls painted up in a bright mural of a park on a sunny afternoon. A small handful of children, whose ages appeared to range from five to eight, were sitting on the bed, watching him intently.

"There, see? He's alive," one of the children, a young girl around the age of seven, with strawberry blonde hair, blue-grey eyes, and a small bridge of freckles decorating the bridge of her nose, stated.

"Darn!" an Asian boy frowned. "Jerry and I were about to poke him with a ruler, too."

"Where am I?" Mark asked, looking around the unfamiliar surroundings.

"The Center," the freckled girl explained. "You were out for almost two hours. You must have hit your head real good." The memory of what had happened came flooding back to the filmmaker instantly, accompanied by a slight throbbing pain in his skull.

"Oh, great! I'm paralyzed, aren't I?" Mark began to panic when he noticed he couldn't feel his arm, failing to notice that one of the kids was sitting on it.

"If you were parawised, mista," a five year old girl with curly hair pointed out, "You couldn't be movin' your head around like that."

"RAAAH!" The kids immediately screamed on hearing the shout. From the doorway, a girl who looked about twenty-three, mocked their screaming before breaking into a laugh and walking in, ruffling the freckled girl's hair in the process. The newcomer in the room had extremely frizzy mousy brown hair and hazel eyes. She was dressed in a New York Yankees jersey and cargo pants, with a navy blue Yankees cap mounted on her head.

"Well, it's good to see you're awake," she smiled at Mark. "I guess that means you're going be okay." The girl looked over at the children. "Okay, everyone. Mac and Cheese is waiting in the dining hall. Hurry, or it'll be cold before you get there!" The children immediately hurried out of the room. Once they were gone, the hazel-eyed girl turned back to Mark. "So, then. How are you feeling? You got yourself quite a bump on the head there."

"Yeah, I can feel that." Mark groaned rubbing the back of his head.

"Just sit tight a bit longer, Mark. I called up a doctor who does house calls a short time ago. He's going be around soon to make sure you didn't get a concussion."

"How… how'd you know my name was…?" The girl responded by holding up a wallet Mark recognized as his own.

"I had to go through it to find some identification, and possibly some emergency contact information. I didn't want any friends or family you might have worrying about you," she explained. "My name's Emily. Emily Goodhall."

"Hi. Nice to meet you." Mark and Emily shook hands. "So, where are we, anyway?"

"The Center. Think of it as a children home of sorts. I'm sort of the unofficial Assistant Director of Operations here. At least, I _would _be if it was an actual paying job. We run on funding programs, so all the workers here are volunteers. But I digress." Before the conversation could continue, an elderly woman poked her head into the room.

"Oh. I see that the young man has decided to join the living, has he?"

"Yes, Nana. Has Dr. Jordan arrived yet?" Emily turned to the old woman.

"Not yet, Emily. I just wanted to see if you remembered to take your blood test?"

"Nana," Emily sighed in exasperation, as she got up and made her way over to a glass cabinet and taking out a blue case of something. "I've been taking those blood tests my whole life. You don't think I'd have made it a habit by now?"

"I know. I just wanted to make sure you didn't let it slip your mind, what with the arrival of our guest."

"Mark, this is Nana Chang, The Center's founder, and an old friend of my mother," Emily introduced.

"You forgot to include 'your caretaker' in that resume, Emily." Nana scolded in good nature.

"Nana, since I'm no longer a minor, I don't need a caretaker anymore."

"Oh, so I guess that means I'm just a worthless old crone no one wants around, then."

"Nana!" Emily exclaimed. "Stop putting words in my mouth, please. You _know _I didn't mean it like that."

"Oh, I know," Nana smiled. "I may not be your actual mother, Emily, but I still reserve the right to uphold motherly duties over you. That includes messing with your head every now and then."

"Aw, go watch for Dr. Jordan, Nana! You know I hate big audiences for this!" Emily brandished the case in her hand. Once Nana had left, Emily once again took a seat next to Mark's bed. "She's like Halley's Comet, except she comes around every seventy-six seconds instead of every seventy-six years." Mark couldn't help but laugh at Emily's joke.

"So, what blood test was Nana talking about?" he asked, before being seized by a horrible thought. "You… you don't have HIV, do you."

"Why?" Emily looked over with a bemused expression. "Do you?"

"No. But… some of my closest friends have HIV. One of them died a few months ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. But, in answer to your question, last I checked, I was HIV negative. Even so, that's not the only disease or disorder you can have. Take me, for example. I've got IDDM."

"IDD… what's that?" Emily laughed.

"IDDM," she repeated. "Insulin Dependent Diabetes Mellitus."

"You're diabetic?"

"Since birth. That's what the blood test's for." Emily shrugged as she went about taking a blood glucose test. "I've got to monitor the amount of sugar in my blood. If it gets too high, for instance, I could go into hyperglycemic shock, and possibly die.

"I like your camera, by the way. 16mm Bolex, right?" Emily changed the subject, pointing at the table next to the bed, where his camera and bike resided.

"Yeah! You know about cameras?"

"Yes and no. I don't really know much about _movie _cameras. However, I've got a Nikon FM2 downstairs. I'm… something of a nature photographer. Only amateur, at best, but still…"

"And, you're a Yankees fan?" Mark questioned, eying Emily's wardrobe choice.

"Oh, good! I was worried people wouldn't get the message!" Emily joked, as the two shared a laugh. "My brother, Zack, used to take me to Yankees games all the time when I was a kid, so I grew up with them."

"Ah, so _here's_ the patient in question!" A middle aged man suddenly walked into the room.

"Dr. Jordan!" Emily waved as she gave up her seat for the doctor. "Thanks for stopping by."

"Any time, Miss Goodhall. You don't have my number on speed-dial for nothing, after all. Although, I never thought I'd ever come down here for anyone over four feet. Now, let's see how you're doing, Mr.…"

"Mark Cohen."

* * *

**AN:** I don't claim to know much about diabetes, but I tried to do some research on it before writing this, so hopefully I got the information accurately represented here. Also, if anyone hasn't figured it out yet, or if you were wondering: Yes, Emily is the same frizzy-haired girl from the prologue. Sorry if she might come off as a Mary Sue right now: just wait- her character development is coming up fairly soon.


	4. The Center's Purpose

**AN: **Thanks to everyone for your reviews so far. I'm a little taken aback by how many people are reading this fic. Please keep them coming, thanks.  
GorgeousSmile: Yes, Maureen's in this. She, Joanne, and Collins make their first appearance in the next chapter. Apologies to Angel fans, but I'm not gonna bring her back to life for any of my Rent fics. Why? Because I personally feel that the fact that she dies makes the ending of Rent much more powerful.

* * *

"Okay, this _is _the place that person on the phone said Mark was, right?" Roger eyed the small horde of children that were racing around the room.

"Well, try asking someone," Mimi suggested.

"Like who? Look at this place. All kids, no adults!" Roger sighed as he stopped a random kid who was running by with a whistle in his mouth. "Hey, kid! Where's a grown-up we can talk to?" The kid stared blankly up at Roger before replying in nothing but a short blow into his whistle and hurrying off. "Hey! Come on!" Roger groaned, scowling at Mimi when she started to laugh.

"You're pretty!" A voice stated. Looking down, they saw a strawberry-blond haired, freckled face girl smiling up at Mimi.

"Thank you," Mimi smiled back at the girl. "Could you help us? We're looking for our friend."

"Oh! You must the friends of the guy on the bike!" the little girl grinned. "This way. He's upstairs with Emily and Dr. Jordan now." Roger and Mimi followed the girl up a flight of stairs and down a hallway, coming to a room where Mark was sitting on the edge of a bed, with Dr. Jordan shining a small light into his eyes.

"Mark!" Roger said as he and Mimi walked in. "Are you okay?"

"He'll be fine," Dr. Jordan announced. "Good news, Mr. Cohen. You don't have a concussion. You're very lucky."

"Thanks again for stopping by, Dr. Jordan," Emily thanked the doctor for the second time, this time from a stool in the corner.

"No problem whatsoever, Miss Goodhall. Call me again anytime." With that, the doctor left the room.

"How'd you guys know where I was?" Mark turned to his friends.

"Someone called the Loft and told us you had an accident," Mimi explained.

"Oh, so I _did_ call the right number, good!" Emily beamed, pulling up her pant leg and rubbing an alcohol swab on her skin above the knee. "I was worried I'd called the wrong place. Once again, I love your voice mail. I'll say it again, it's really clever."

"Guys, this is Emily. Emily, these are my friends, Roger and Mimi."

"Hello to both of you," Emily nodded in acknowledgment before taking something about of the blue case she was still holding.

"What's that?" Roger froze, looking at the object in shock. When Mark looked over, he saw Emily was holding a syringe, and instantly realized that Roger was forming his own conclusions about its purpose.

"Roger, calm down," Mark assured quickly. "It's not the type of needle you're probably thinking about. Emily explained to me before you got here. She has diabetes. That's one of her insulin shots."

"Insulin?" Roger instantly began to relax.

"Yeah, what did you think it was?" Emily cast a puzzled look at the three friends as she returned the safety tip back on the now emptied insulin needle. Mark suddenly gave Roger and Mimi an uneasy glance, wondering if he should mention it to Emily so soon. Noticing this, Roger gave a quick nod, nonverbally giving his best friend permission.

"Well," Mark began slowly. "Roger and Mimi, here. They… used to be junkies. Roger's been clean for over two years now, and Mimi is on her way to becoming clean. But, well, Roger has very little patience for people who still use heroin."

"Oh. So they were both heroin addicts," Emily nodded in understanding. With that, Emily returned her attention back to her used insulin shot, carefully bending the needle point until it snapped off, and promptly dropped them in a nearby wastepaper basket. "I prefer to make sure my insulin needles can only be used once," she explained noticing the confused looks on the other's faces. "I once caught a guy digging through our trash outside, for who knows what, so I like making sure."

"Wait, you're just leaving the subject there?" Mimi blinked in surprise.

"I don't think I understand the question, Mimi."

"Well, usually, when someone finds out that Roger and I were on smack,…"

"You're asking me why I'm not treating you two like a couple of lepers, am I right?" Emily chuckled. "Truthfully, the way I see it, who am I to judge? That's God's job. And in addition," Emily turned to Roger. "You don't have to worry about me going down _that _way, Roger, I can assure you of that. For starters, I'm still diabetic. Insulin is not exactly cheap, you know. After the insulin, and other daily necessities, I really can't afford to spend money on things like that." Mark, meanwhile had started to move off the bed and started collecting his bike and camera.

"Thanks again for your help, Emily. I appreciate it," Mark stated.

"It was no trouble at all, Mark. But you'll have to excuse me, now. Since your friends are here, and Dr. Jordan said you're fine, I need to get back to my duties here at the Center. You understand, right?"

"Yes, of course."

* * *

Mark, Roger and Mimi followed Emily to the entry room, where the kids were still racing around.

"Well, then. I guess I'll see you around, maybe," Emily waved as the three friends moved toward the door. As they were about to leave however, the freckled face girl who had helped Roger and Mimi find Mark hurried up.

"Emily!" she cried, looking distressed about something.

"Penny! What's wrong!"

"It's Sammy! He's tripped and fallen in the playroom! He's skinned his knee!"

"Quick, Penny, get the first aid equipment!" Emily ordered as she hurried out of the room. After a momentary pause, Mark, Roger and Mimi followed after her. Once in the playroom, they instantly saw a handful of kids standing near a six-year-old boy, who was currently clutching at his bleeding knee in pain.

"Hey, it's that kid with the whistle!" Roger realized, recognizing the boy as the one he'd tried to ask for help earlier.

"Yes. Sammy's a mute, so he uses his whistle to communicate," Emily explained, turning as the girl she had called Penny raced in and handed her a tin crate labeled 'First Aid Supplies'. But as Emily started to go up to tend to Sammy, she saw Mark moving down to look at the bleeding knee.

"MARK, DON'T TOUCH HIM!" Emily shouted, causing the filmmaker to jump. Emily quickly knelt next to Sammy, gently but firmly pushing Mark aside, and opened up the tin box, removing a box of examination gloves. Only once her hands were protected by a pair of gloves did she start to tend to the wound, making a clearly conscious effort to avoid physical contact with the boy's blood.

And then, Mark understood why Emily had freaked out when she had seen him trying to help Sammy. Looking up at Roger and Mimi, he could see in their faces that they realized it too.

Sammy was HIV positive.

* * *

As soon as Sammy's wound had been properly treated, and he had hobbled off to the Center's bedroom upstairs, with two other boys helping him along, Mark followed Emily to a small sink that was positioned in the corner of the room, where she began thoroughly scrubbing her hands.

"Emily? That boy, Sammy? He…." Mark paused before continuing. "He's HIV positive, isn't he."

"Yes. He is." Emily replied after a brief hesitation. "Him and half the children here. That's why the Center exists. Oh, sure, we do get the occasional teen pregnancy child, whose parents did not want a child, or couldn't afford one, but for the most part, this place is more or less a dumping ground for the children no one wants. Children who are born HIV positive, or born with drug addictions."

"And you take care of them all?" Mimi asked, clearly stunned and touched.

"And why not? Someone's got to do it, and if not me, who?"

"But… aren't you afraid you'll get AIDS from one of them?'

"Truthfully Mimi? I'm a little more afraid of getting something like Tuberculosis. HIV isn't all that easy to get, after all, and I make an effort to take necessary precautions, as you saw a few minutes ago."

"All right, there's something I don't understand," Roger began. "You take care of these kids, knowing full well that they wouldn't be _in _the position they're in now if their parents hadn't gotten messed up in drugs, or gotten AIDS, in the first place, and yet, you _still _won't judge the parents?"

"Many people look at drug addicts and say they shouldn't have started, that they are just stupid people who brought it all on themselves," Emily explained. "As for me, I only wonder what made them start. Was it because a friend got them on drugs, and they trusted the friend, following the understanding that friends, by learned definition, never lead you astray, was it because they were simply curious and obeyed basic human instinct to test curiosity, or is it because their life was so horrible, they'd be willing to do anything to escape the pain and sadness they felt. Either way, fault rarely lies with one person alone. It's usually a domino effect, one in which you could very easily get to the point when a bit of the blame lies with everyone on Earth. And you'd quickly become a very disagreeable person if you did that. As for the AIDS," Emily trailed off, and momentarily fingered a silver heart locket that hung around her neck. "AIDS, like many other illnesses, does not discriminate. No one goes out into the world asking for something like that. No one." Once again, Emily quietly fiddled with her locket. "On that note," she stated quickly, "I really need to get back to my duties."

"Okay," Mark nodded. Once they were outside, Roger spoke again.

"I still can't believe that girl is so willing to take care of all those kids!"

"Yeah, maybe," Mark shrugged. "It's just that… I don't know. I might have imagined it, but she seemed to get hesitant to continue talking when the subject came to AIDS."

"Well, Mark, don't forget," Mimi added sadly. "She's surrounded by kids who have it all day. A lot of those kids might not make it to their tenth birthday."

"That's true," Mark nodded. "But somehow, I got the feeling it might be more than that."

* * *

**AN: **Only one more chapter to go, and it's the end of part one, and the beginning of part two, in which the plot begins to pick up. Hope you all caught the inside joke about Tuberculosis. (In case anyone hasn't been informed of it already, in La Boheme, the Opera Rent was based on, Mimi's La Boheme equivalent dies from Tuberculosis at the end.)  
Also, keep Emily's locket in mind. It's gonna be very important later on .


	5. Handcuffs and Italian Food

Mark, Roger, and Mimi sat waiting in The Loft. Collins, Maureen and Joanne were supposed to be stopping by any minute in order for the six of them to spend an evening at the Life, a practice that had became a sacred tradition for them all. However, they all were about five minutes late.

"Seriously, where are those guys?" Mark asked, beginning to pace.

"Easy, Mark," Roger looked up from the couch where he was sitting with Mimi perched on his lap. "You know how girls are." This earned him a sharp slap over the head from Mimi. "Ow! I was just kidding, baby!" Mimi grinned, before leaning in to kiss him.

"Well, if they don't get here soon, there might not be enough seats at the Life for six people," Mark pointed out.

"Seven," Mimi corrected. "Seven people."

"Come again, Meems?" Roger looked over at his girlfriend.

"I stopped by at the Center earlier," Mimi smiled. "I thought it would be nice to invite Emily to join us tonight, as a thank you for helping Mark when he almost got himself killed last week." Roger couldn't help but grin at this. Typical Mimi. She was always the one to reach out to new people, determined to make as many friends as possible.

Seconds later, Maureen and Joanne finally entered the loft, the former practically bouncing out of her skin abut something.

"Guys, this is really amazing!" she squealed. "I saw a special on TV last night about learning magic tricks at home! I need you to help me test out the first trick I learned!"

"Maureen, I told you. You can't just master a trick like this in less then a day," Joanne sighed, ever the rationalist.

"Oh, come on, don't be a spoilsport," Maureen pouted before turning back to the others. "Say you'll be my volunteers! pleasepleasepleaseplease….?"

"Okay, okay!" Mark cried, if nothing but to calm her down. "What kind of trick?"

* * *

"Wonderful trick, Maureen," Roger scowled twenty minutes later. All five of them were handcuffed together. Maureen was trying one last time to wiggle her hand out of her handcuff, but to no avail.

"Guys I'm so sorry!" Maureen apologized as she finally gave up. "I could have _sworn _these were the right handcuffs!" At that moment the phone started to ring. However, since they were also inconveniently handcuffed to the lamp as well, none of them could reach the phone.

"_SPPEEEEAAAAAK!"_

"Um, hey guys. It's Collins. Listen, do you think you guys could, uh, come down to the station for me? I'm in a little bit of trouble. I… kinda need you guys to bail me out of jail here. Please don't ask questions, I'll explain everything when I get out of here. Thanks."

"Nice job, Maureen," Roger growled again. "Next time, bring the da-n keys, okay?"

"Mer-ci-ful heavens!" The friends all looked over to the window to see Emily standing on the windowsill, staring at them all, stunned. "What… did you guys _do_?"

"Emily?" Mark blinked. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, Mimi came to the Center this afternoon, asking if I wanted to join you on your trip to the Life Café tonight. I figured it was that or a TV dinner. I would have been here sooner, but Rupert and Jerry thought it would be… _amusing _to set a bunch of frogs loose in the building. It took ages to round them all up."

"How'd you get up here?" Joanne asked.

"Well, I found an old umbrella in a pile of garbage outside," Emily explained. "Since I couldn't get through the front door without a key, I had to use that to pull down the fire escape ladder. Now it's _your _turn to answer some questions. For starters, what the heck happened to you guys?"

"Maureen," Roger grumbled, pointing to the drama queen," got the _wonderful _idea of getting into magic tricks."

"Oh!" Emily nodded in dawning understanding. "You mean the thing, with the handcuffs, and the cloth, the hand waving, and the trick latch thing?"

"Yes," Joanne sighed. "Except _someone _mixed up the trick handcuffs with _real _ones."

"I said I was sorry!" Maureen huffed. "What do you want me to do?"

"Emily, listen," Mark began. "Could you, by any chance, go and try to find a locksmith to come over and help us out?"

"Don't have to," Emily smiled as she reached up into her hair and removed a bobby pin. She bent down next to the bound-together group, and inserted the bobby pin into one of the handcuff locks, twisting the small length of wire around. Seconds later, the handcuff opened with a click."

"How'd you do that?" Joanne asked, clearly impressed.

"Lucky for you guys," Emily stated, moving on to another lock, "I happen to have a bit of experience with handcuffs." Suddenly, Emily froze, and began to chuckle, a definite blush appearing in her cheeks, apparently realizing that her words could easily be taken the wrong way. "I don't mean like _that_," she laughed nervously. "My brother, Zack, was a cop. So, naturally, he worked with handcuffs all the time. He insisted on teaching me everything that could help me get out of every sticky situation imaginable, and even some that were unimaginable. Picking locks was one of his first lessons." As Emily finished her narrative, she managed to open the final handcuff. Rubbing his wrists in an attempt to get the circulation back into his hands, Mark introduced Emily to Maureen and Joanne.

"Mark, come on!" Mimi stated. "Collins is still waiting for us!"

"Oh, right!" Mark nodded. "Emily, do you mind waiting here for a bit? Our friend called up before you got here. We gotta help bail him out of jail."

"Oh. Sure, no problem, but, how'd he get into jail in the first place, if you don't mind me asking?"

"With Collins, you never can be sure. We'll be back soon," Mark shrugged as he left with the others. Once they were gone, Emily began to look around the Loft with an appraising eye.

"Hmm. Spacious." Emily commented, before glancing over at the stove, with a raised eyebrow. A smile slowly crept onto her face.

* * *

"You were stealing animals?" Joanne muttered incredulously as the six friends walked up the street to the Life, as Collins filled them all in on his latest escapade. It had taken almost an hour and a half to get past all the legal work, but finally, mostly thanks to Joanne, they had managed to get Collins released.

"It was an animal testing facility," Collins defended. "It wasn't stealing. It was liberating."

"Man, why didn't you invite us along?" Roger playfully scolded.

"Next time, Rog. Promise."

"Oh, come _on_!" Maureen pouted as they reached the Life. The café was completely deserted, and the door was locked tight. "I can't believe they're closed! I'm hungry!"

"Well, I guess it's cold leftover pizza tonight," Mimi sighed.

"Just one question, guys," Collins began. "What took you so long to get down there to bail me out?" As they began to fill the anarchist in on Maureen's failed magic trick, Mark suddenly went as stiff as a board, a horrified look on his face.

"OH, NO!" he cried.

"Mark, what happened?"

"Emily! I just remembered! She's been alone in the Loft this whole time!"

"Aw, sh-t!" Roger hissed as they began to race back home. As they finally reached the large sliding door that lead to the Loft, however, they were greeted by a strong garlicky smell that was wafting its way out through the small cracks between the door and the wall. After sharing a confused look, they opened the door, just in time to see Emily place a serving tray of fresh-baked breadsticks on the center of the large metal table.

"Oh, good! Perfect timing!" she grinned upon seeing them. "Dinner is served!"

"Emily, what's this?" Maureen gaped as the Bohemians stared at the seven plates arranged neatly around the table, each containing a generous portion of tortellinis covered in light orange sauce.

"Well," Emily shrugged. "I thought that, since you were using your money to help bail your friend out of jail, you might not have enough left over to buy a substantial meal. So I thought I'd help out by making you something instead.

"You can_ cook_?"

"Don't insult me! I happen to be part Italian. Cooking's in my blood. And don't forget that I have to take care of children every day. Knowing how to cook is something of a requirement."

"Wow, that smells good." Collins noted, eying the dish. "What is it?"

"One of my specialties. Three cheese tortellini in rosé vodka sauce, with sautéed mushrooms and fresh-baked breadsticks." The others all had to fight back a laugh. They knew Emily had Collins at 'vodka sauce'. "It's a big hit at the Center," Emily continued. "All the children love it. And I figured, if they love it, then maybe you'd enjoy it, too. None of you are allergic to dairy, I hope." Emily suddenly frowned, as if fearing that someone was.

"Oh, no, no one has food allergies here," Mark assured her.

"Good, because one of the ingredients is heavy cream, Well, come on, then; it's best when eaten warm." No one needed to be told twice.

* * *

**AN:** And that's the end of part one, which was meant to introduce Emily. Part two's the main story, and it will be up soon. Maybe some more good reviews will inspire me to speed up the process. (hint-hint)  
On personal notes:  
1) The dinner Emily makes is a real dish, and it's super good: I used to eat it all the time at the Community College in my home town.  
2) Sorry for censoring out the swear words. Blame my parents and their child rearing skills. (Lol)  
3) Hope I managed to get everyone in character. I personally could see Maureen and Collins pulling stunts like that. I hope I wasn't wrong.  
Again, hope everyone's enjoying my story. Until next time.


	6. Marble Cemetery

**AN:** Part two starts here. Fasten your seatbelts, 'cause you're in for a bumpy ride.

* * *

It was a bright March morning, at the point in time when the snow had ended for another year, but it was not considered spring yet. The New York City Marble Cemetery was all but deserted, apart from the six individuals who were walking across the grounds. Each Bohemian was holding a single rose. While everyone was rather somber this morning, Roger couldn't help but feel particularly uncomfortable about the situation. The last time he had been here, it hadn't exactly gone very good, and had ended with him running off to Santa Fe for an entire month. Now, he felt almost ashamed to come back here. Mimi, who was walking next to him, seemed to sense his unease, and gave his hand a comforting squeeze, and a supporting smile. After what seemed like an eternity, they had arrived at a gravestone. Angel's gravestone. It had been less then five months since she had died, and that day still was hard for them to think about. Whoever had said that the first year was always the hardest was not kidding. One by one, they each stepped forward to say a silent prayer to their lost friend. When each was finished, they placed the rose they were holding at the base of Angel's grave. Collins was the last to go up, and no one was surprised when he took the longest. As Collins finally rejoined his friends, Mimi happened to glance over to the other gravestones in the distance. A confused frown appeared on her face.

"E…Emily?" she whispered. Hearing this, the Bohemians all followed Mimi's gaze. A few yards away from where they were all standing, there was a person kneeling in front of a gravestone, placing a white rose at the base. Even from this distance, there was no mistaking that frizzy mousy-brown hair partially concealed under the Yankees cap. As they watched, Emily got up, and, after lovingly patting the top of the gravestone, walked off alone. Mimi was the first to start heading over to the grave Emily had just visited, the others soon repeating her example. As soon as they had reached it, Mimi quickly read the words carved into the stone face, her eyes growing wide as she did so.

_Zachary Goodhall_

_1961-1982_

_Loving Brother and Mentor_

"Emily's brother!" Mark realized, remembering all the times their friend had mentioned him.

"Why didn't we ever realize?" Mimi asked, to no one in particular. "Why did it never occur to us that she was always talking in the past tense? Why didn't she tell us that her brother was dead? We always assumed that he just didn't live in the city."

"1982," Collins read the date of death. "He was only twenty-one."

"How'd you think it happened?" Maureen wondered.

"Emily told us he was a cop," Joanne remembered. "I suppose it's possible he was killed on the job. Think about it; that would explain why Emily never spoke of it. Imagine that your brother went off to work one morning, with both of you expecting him to be home for dinner, like always. But on that night, he doesn't come home."

"Do you think," Maureen began after a long pause, "that she'd want a bit of company? She _was _always talking about how great a brother Zack was, so…."

"Yeah, maybe," Mark nodded. "You guys coming?"

"I'd like to," Joanne sighed. "But I have to be in court tomorrow, and I need to go over my files.

"And I have a test to prepare for Friday, and Mimi's dance class starts in an hour," Collins noted. "You three go. We'll catch up to you all later." The Bohemians then went their separate ways, with Mimi giving Roger a quick kiss on the cheek before hurrying off.

* * *

Maureen, Mark and Roger caught up to Emily about fifteen minutes later, just as she was entering an electronics shop.

"Oh!" Emily smiled upon seeing them. "It's you guys! How've you been?"

"Never mind us. How about you?" Maureen asked, going right for the throat of the subject.

"We saw you at Marble Cemetery a few minutes ago," Mark explained. The smile on Emily's face faded, and she began to fiddle with her locket.

"Oh. So, you know about Zack, then, huh?"

"Why didn't you tell us he died?"

"I just didn't think it was the type of thing I was supposed to run through the streets shouting out about," Emily shrugged. "Besides, he's dead, isn't he? There's nothing anyone can do about it, right?"

"I know, but...we understand how it feels to lose someone we care about."

"No offense, guys. But I don't feel much like talking about it right now, okay?"

"I understand," Mark nodded. The smile returned to Emily's face as she walked up to the clerk at a counter.

"Ah, Miss Goodhall, back again, I see," the clerk looked up and greeted Emily. She was obviously a frequent customer here.

"Hi, Mr. Scott. Have my slides came in yet?"

"Yes, they have," Mr. Scott handed Emily a manila folder. "You managed to get some good ones this time, if you don't mind me saying so."

"You're a shameless flatter, Mr. Scott. Has anyone over told you that?"

"Say, that reminds me. Did you hear back from that photography school, yet?"

"Um," Emily winced in response. "Yeah. They tuned me down. Again."

"They _didn't_!" Mr. Scott looked genuinely shocked. "Don't tell me they weren't impressed by your work?"

"The portfolio's not the problem," Emily tucked the manila folder under her arm. "It's my lack of paid job experience. Volunteering full time at The Center just isn't enough to impress most people these days, sadly."

"Keep trying, Miss Goodhall," Mr. Scott called after Emily as she turned to walk off, with Mark, Maureen and Roger going with her. "You'll find someone who values integrity over money, I'm sure of it."

"So, what's in the folder?" Mark asked.

"Remember that I mentioned I was something of a nature photographer? These are some of my shots."

"OOOHH!" Maureen squealed. "Can we see?" Emily, after a moment's hesitation, removed a sheet of 35mm slides and handed them to her friends.

"Hey, Mr. Scott's right, Emily!" Mark complemented as he scanned over the images encased in the slides, which included a tree branch containing buds that were just beginning to open, a ladybug resting upon a blade of grass, and a spider web coated with rain droplets . "These are great!"

"You can't tell me no one has tried to snatch you up!" Maureen agreed.

"Unfortunately, they don't think I've had enough experience in the field," Emily sighed. "Working at the Center isn't enough to convince these people I can do the job. They want someone who has an actual _salary_."

"Hey, Rog, look at these!" Mark called, still engrossed in Emily's slides. "Rog?" The three looked back to see Roger standing in front of the television sets on display, looking like he saw a ghost. When they walked over to join him, they saw he was watching a live news broadcast that was being shown on one of them.

"A police officer, who refused to disclose his name, stated that this latest killing is thought to be connected to the numerous disappearances that have plagued the city since the beginning of the year. In addition, it appears to be identical to the work of the once infamous Rat Fang Gang, who once terrorized the streets of Downtown Manhattan almost ten years ago. The question remains if this is the same group or a copycat gang. The identity of the victim, who was found in an ally near East Fourth Street and Second Avenue a short time ago, is not known at this time, but bystanders say they recognize the girl as someone who once worked at a local strip club, known as The Cat Scratch Club…"

"No," Roger moaned in a barely audible whisper before bolting out of the store and racing down the street, his friends close behind him.

* * *

**AN:** Once again, sorry for leaving you hanging. But cliffhangers are great ways to ensure that readers will come back for more. In an interesting bit of information, the end of this chapter, and it's continuation next chapter, was actually the first one I thought up. The rest of the story was built from it. Hope it was to your liking. More coming soon.


	7. The Rat Fang Gang

**AN: **Okay, to those of you who might be scared, I just ask you to finish reading this chapter. That's my only request at the moment.

* * *

As Roger ran through the streets, he barely noticed how all sound had seemed to completely die, as if he had been dropped into a cone of silence. Even his vision had grown blurry around the edges, as it threatened to fail him, too. It was if time itself had stopped, and he was the only one who had escaped the clock's binding chains.

It couldn't be her! Oh, please, no, not again! He shouldn't have left her side. He should have kissed her longer before going after Emily. He should of, oh, God, _please_! Not again!

He had no idea how long he'd been running, but the second he saw the police barrier around the crime scene, all sound came rushing back so fast, it made his ears hurt. There was a large stitch in his side as well. But none of that mattered.

"Roger, wait!" Mark cried as he, Maureen and Emily finally managed to catch up. The musician, however, refused to listen to his best friend and strode forward. One of the cops moving around the scene took notice of Roger and moved into his path.

"I'm sorry, son, but I'm afraid you can't come in here."

"Out of my way!" Roger snarled, trying to push the cop out of the way, or at least get a glimpse of her, panic beginning to overtake him.

"Roger, please!" Mark begged. "We don't know anything yet!"

"LET ME SEE! GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Roger and the cop were practically trying to outmuscle each other at this point. At that moment, two medics pushed a gurney out of the ally, the body lying atop it completely covered. The second he saw this, Roger's legs gave way.

"No," he whispered, the tears finally starting to flow. "Oh, please, no. This isn't happening."

"Roger," Mark's hand dropped onto his shoulder, only to be swatted away roughly.

"Don't touch me!" Roger growled.

"Roger, listen!" Mark repeated.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"Roger." The last voice that called his name made Roger's heart stop instantly. Once again, his ears registered no sound. Slowly, he finally looked up, taking an eternity to turn around. The sight waiting for him resulted in his breath getting caught in his throat.

Mimi.

For the longest time, Roger remained on his knees, staring at his beautiful Latina dancer who was standing there, taking in everything, her hair, her lips, those wonderful brown eyes that he adored, everything to convince himself that she was really there, and that he wasn't just imagining it. Finally, the feeling in his legs returned, and in one quick movement, he was on his feet, enclosing Mimi into his arms tightly.

"Mimi! Oh, baby!" He gasped. "Thank God! I was so scared! So scared!" He inhaled her scent deeply, as if he was determined to make this moment last for all time, the tears still falling from his cheeks and getting caught in her hair. Only this time, they were tears of sheer joy. "Mimi, I love you!"

"Mimi, do you know who that was?" Mark asked, as Roger repeatedly continued to stroke her hair and kiss her forehead in relief.

"It's Madison," Mimi replied softly. "She'd just started working at the Cat Scratch when I left. The moment I saw it on the news, I had to come over to see who it was." As the medics started to place Madison's body into the ambulance, the sheet that covered her got tangled up in the spoke of the gurney wheel, which resulted in the cloth to be pulled halfway down, revealing that the girl's face and body were horribly slashed, with blood everywhere. One of the senior medics strode forward to help the other two recover the body.

"Emily!" Maureen cried suddenly. "Are you okay?" Looking over at Emily, the friends saw that she was staring at the gurney, as pale as a sheet. She was shaking like crazy, and looked like she was about to be sick. Before anyone could do anything, Emily's eyes rolled back into her head, and she fainted on the spot.

"Emily!" Mark and Maureen quickly knelt down to check up on their friend.

"Step aside!" The cop who had stopped Roger earlier appeared at their side, looking down at Emily in concern. "Pick her up!" he tossed out an order to a group of cops who were standing nearby.

* * *

Shortly afterward, Mark, Roger, Mimi and Maureen were standing by in a hospital room, Emily still unconscious on the bed. The cop, who had went with them and had introduced himself as Officer Kurtz, was currently interviewing Mimi, on the basis that she had known Madison. As the interview concluded, Dr. Jordan entered the room.

"Mr. Cohen," Dr. Jordan began, recognizing the filmmaker. "Could you please tell me what happened to Miss Goodhall?" Mark quickly explained the story of what had happened at the crime scene.

"...And Emily, she was just standing there, looking like she was going to throw up, and then…" Dr. Jordan held up a hand, indicating silence.

"Thank you, Mr. Cohen," Dr. Jordan nodded. "There is no need to say anything more. Wait here." Dr. Jordan stepped out of the room and returned soon afterward, this time holding a glass bottle labeled 'ammonium carbonate'. Dr. Jordan unscrewed the cap off the bottle and passed the mouth of the bottle under Emily's nose. Emily instantly inhaled and her eyes snapped open. Groaning, she slowly sat up, rubbing at her temple.

"Miss Goodhall," Dr. Jordan explained to the Bohemians, "has a rather strong case of hemophobia, the fear of blood. Just the sight of it, well, I trust you all saw what happened." Emily made a small noise at this point, and Dr. Jordan gave her an understanding look. "I've told you before, Miss Goodhall, it's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. A lot of people are hemophobics. Now, you'll have to excuse me." Dr. Jordan left the room with a grim expression now on his face. "I have an autopsy to go perform."

"Okay then, let's have it." Emily looked over at her friends. "Go ahead and tell me that I'm pathetic, loosing it like that."

"Hey, it's okay, Emily," Maureen assured. "Dr. Jordan' right. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Excuse me, everyone," Officer Kurtz interrupted. "But I would like a private word with Miss Goodhall. Could you all step into the hall for a minute?" The Bohemians obeyed, but as soon as the door had closed, they immediately started eavesdropping.

"Officer Kurtz, I heard the news broadcast," Emily said. "_Is_ it the Rat Fang Gang again?"

"At the present time, Miss Goodhall, we don't know anything. But it certainly looks like they've come back. That's why I think you'll understand why I'm asking you to…"

"Officer Kurtz!" Emily sounded panicked now. "I can't leave the city! The children at the Center need me! And I _can't _leave Penny, you know I can't! You can't just ask me to abandon them!"

"Miss Goodhall, if the Rat Fangs _have _indeed returned, you have to understand that you might not be safe for much longer. I can't offer you police protection twenty-four seven. We all have other things to see to."

"I'm staying," Emily insisted.

"Miss Goodhall, be reasonable!" Officer Kurtz repeated, this time sounding deeply concerned for the girl. "Zack wouldn't have wanted his sister staying in the city where she might no longer be safe."

"Zack wouldn't have run off to save his skin. He'd have stayed and continued to look after me, regardless of the danger he might have been in. So _you _must understand why I can't just go off to a place that's safe, and leave those children behind, leave Penny behind. You can't tell me to agree to being taken off to a safe place outside the city, Officer Kurtz. Because not only would I spend the whole time worrying about Penny, for starters, but _they_ also would find me, no matter where I go. If they decide to come after me, no city border will stop them. They'll track me down no matter where I go, or have you forgotten my mom and dad? There _is _no safe place from the Rat Fang Gang. I'm staying."

"You realize that if they find you…"

"That just means I'll be reunited with my family sooner rather then later." A long sigh from Officer Kurtz was heard.

"Lord be with you, Miss Goodhall." Officer Kurtz then started to head for the door, with the eavesdropping Bohemians all jumping back to keep from getting caught. Officer Kurtz bid goodbye to the four friends before leaving the hospital.

"What was that about?" Maureen whispered.

"Don't know." Mark replied, glancing into the room where Emily was out of bed and getting her things together to leave. "But we can't ask her. Remember, we weren't supposed to have heard all that."

* * *

**AN: **And the plot thickens. Hope I didn't lose any readers after the scare last chapter. I can assure you all now, I'd never be so cold blooded to kill off Mimi like that. She's my favorite Rent girl. Next chapter will be up soon.


	8. Ice Breaker

On a subway car, the Bohemians all sat in silence. Occasionally, they chanced a nervous glance at Emily, who was staring aimlessly out into space, and wondered if she was more scared then she was letting on. If what Officer Kurtz had said was true, and the Rat Fang Gang was intending to find her for reasons unknown to them, then would Emily manage to escape them? All things considered, she might end up just like Madison. Maureen couldn't believe how calm and unfazed Emily was acting about all this. If she was in this situation, with a murdering street gang possibly out to get her, she'd be panicking like crazy. Emily, however, looked like she was just waiting for the results on a college final.

"Roger?" The Bohemians couldn't help but jump slightly. This was the first time Emily had spoken since leaving the hospital twenty minutes ago. "Are you doing okay, now? You kind of freaked out on us when you saw that stuff on the news."

"Of course I did," Roger nodded, pulling Mimi closer to him. "That could have been Mimi they were talking about."

"The news lady said that it was someone from a strip club, though." Emily pointed out. The others exchanged glances. No one had ever told Emily about Mimi's original job.

"Well, yeah," Mimi replied finally. Emily looked at the faces of her friends, trying to read them, then suddenly began to chuckle.

"Oh, yeah, right. Like _you _were a stripper." Seconds later, Emily noticed that they were all still looking serious. The smile on Emily's face was replaced by a stunned expression. "You were a _stripper_?" Mimi shifted uncomfortably in her seat, Roger gently rubbing her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. Maureen and Mark, on the other hand, were watching Emily, waiting for her reaction. But then, to everyone's surprise, she let out a short breathy laugh.

"Okay, I _have _to know," Emily turned to Mimi. "How'd you manage to do _that_? Get up in front of thousands of strangers and do… _that_? That's got to take lot of guts!"

"You mean, you're _impressed_?" Maureen asked.

"Of course! Look at me; I get a little uncomfortable changing in front of my pet potbellied pig, Wenceslas, but Mimi on the other hand,… oh, _wow_. Man, I wish I could be _that _fearless." Mark noticed Maureen looked like she was about to point out how cool Emily was acting with the whole Rat Fang situation, and nudged her.

"We didn't hear all that, remember?" he reminded in a low whisper. Maureen nodded, but still couldn't forget the things they had heard when Emily had been talking with Officer Kurtz. It hadn't been that long ago since they had lost Angel. How could they possibly cope if they lost Emily as well, especially when the photographer had became a part of their extended family only recently? However, when she continued to watch Emily, who was now talking and laughing with Mimi about random things, she started to wonder if this was how Emily was staying so cool while her life could possibly be at stake; by finding something, anything, that could distract her, and just push it to the very back of her mind for the time being. Maureen suddenly remembered something her mother had told her once when she had been waiting anxiously for her high school report card to come in the mail: '_Worrying about something that's no longer in your hands won't change the ultimate outcome. Sometimes, all you can do is wait and hope for the best.'_

Maureen had always been the excitable one, flying off the handle at the drop of a hat. But when she thought about it now, she had to admit that, at times, that was a wise course of action.

_'No day but today.'_ Maureen reminded herself, as the subway car came to their stop.

* * *

**AN:** Well, that was a short chapter, I know. I thought perhaps I could use this one to test out telling the story with Maureen's POV. It was a risky chance, but I decided to take it. I'm kind of winging it here for a while, since some original ideas for the story are currently being dropped for new ones. Hopefully, this will just make the story better. (Crosses fingers) Until next time...


	9. When It Rains, It Pours

**AN:** Okay, I just need a momet to get this rant off my chest. I recently got a series of 'reviews' from an unknown person. While I can take some constructive critisism, I cannot tolerate it when you insult me at the same time. Thankfully, the reviews in questions could be deleted, as they were anonymous. Most of the things stated, I will not repeat, but I just want to reiterate, for one of them: I do not censor out swear words in my fics to make them more acceptable for readers. I do it because I personally don't feel comfortable writing them out. It was how I was raised, simple as that. In a nutshell: Don't like, don't read.

Moving on, here's the next instalment. Hope it makes up for the last chapter being so short.

* * *

A week had gone by since the infamous conversation between Emily and Officer Kurtz. Mark and the others had filled Collins and Joanne in on what they had heard after Emily had returned to the Center. Naturally, they were both stunned, but eventually, they had all agreed that the best thing to do was to just be there for their friend, and hopefully, she would eventually tell them the whole story.

On this day, they had set the whole day aside to visit her at the Center. At the current time, Emily was standing in the doorway of a room, watching the children of the Center play, a faraway look on her face.

"Emily? What's wrong?" Mimi immediately saw the uneasy expression on the photographer's face. Emily took a moment to reply.

"Come with me," she invited finally. Emily led the Bohemians through the Center and up a flight of stairs, where they came to a door with a large wooden 'E' covered in blue paint nailed to it. Emily opened the door and led them into the room that obviously was where she lived. It was about the size of an average second grade classroom. In one corner, a wooden divider served as a makeshift wall that shielded an iron cast bed, like the ones that were in the children's dorm, from the sun that would shine through the window at dawn. In addition, the room held a great collection of 'recycled' junk that had been repurposed, such as an old shipping crate that had been turned into a magazine rack. In a patch of sun that was shining through the window, a black miniature potbellied pig, obviously Emily's pet Wenceslas, looked up when the group had entered, but upon seeing Emily, he seemed to decide that the rest of them could be trusted and went back to sleep. The six friends watched as Emily picked up an opened letter that was lying on an old wire and cable spool that served as a table and handed it to them.

"Remember when I told you that this place was kept open under funding?" she began. "Well, lately, we're getting more children coming to the Center then we can handle. And I'm sure you're all aware that they're coming out with new AIDS treatments. And that means more expenses. In any event, we no longer have enough funding to keep this place going. That letter came this morning. It's a foreclosure notice. We only have a month left, then we all have to vacate."

"What's going to happen to the children?" Roger asked.

"Chances are, they'll be taken to a children's hospital."

"Well, that would be good," Joanne pointed out. "There, they can be better provided for, and receive the best treatment possible."

"That's not the part I'm worried about," Emily whispered, looking away.

"Excuse me, Emily?" Nana entered the room. "I'm sorry, but the adoption agency we're partnered to is on the phone. They said… it's that Colmillo person. He's filled out all the paperwork.. for Penny's adoption."

"_What_!" Emily's eyes widened as she made a mad dash for the phone, picking it up in desperation. "Yes, hello! Listen, I really don't think you realize what you're doing…. Yes, I know Colmillo seems like a nice man and all, and that he appears to be able to provide for her, but… Oh, will you just _listen _to me for a moment? This guy gave me a bad vibe when we met with each other last week. I'm not convinced he's the type of man who can care for Penny properly….. Okay, listen. I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record, here, but **_I_** want to adopt Penny. I understand that I'm under twenty-five, and I have no steady income, and there's that single mother thing, but I know I can make it…Are you lau…_he's laughing at me_! No, no, don't hang… Don't hang… Hello? _Hello_!" Emily slammed the phone back on the cradle. "KNUCKLEHEAD!" Breathing heavily, she rested her head against the wall. "Idiot. Dumb botchagaloop."

"Hey, Emily?" Mark asked, moving closer to his friend in concern. "You gonna be all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, Mark. I'll be fine. Sorry for blowing up like that, guys," Emily breathed. "It's just that I've been on edge enough as it is lately, and now this. Everything's all happening at once. It's like what they say. When it rains, it pours." After a few more deep breaths in an attempt to calm down, Emily dropped down into a chair. "Penny's not like the others, you see. She's not here because her parents had AIDS, or were on drugs. Her mother died giving birth to her, and she's been here ever since. But, because Penny doesn't have the same… condition as the others, she's a prime choice for parents looking to adopt." At this point, Emily buried her face in her hands. "Penny and I; we've never been apart since she was born. She's always been around. And, ever since I turned eighteen, I _knew _I wanted to adopt her. Most hopeful couples would look at Penny and want to adopt her off the back because she's perfectly healthy. Not me. I wouldn't care if she was autistic, or born with an extra head, or had spina bifida. None of that's important. Because she's just Penny. I was there when she learned how to walk, how to talk, when she was teething, when she was potty-trained, when she lost her first tooth. And now they're trying to take her away from me, so I will no longer be able to be there for her, and be present for all of her firsts. I couldn't bear that, because no one could love that little girl more then me. And I couldn't love her more if she was my own flesh and blood." Sighing, Emily got back up and started to fiddle with her locket. "How can I say goodbye, now?"

"Maybe… you won't have to," Mimi spoke up. "We still have a month, right? Perhaps, we could manage to get enough money together to keep this place open a while longer. That way, you wouldn't have to put any of the children up for adoption, and you'll have more time to figure out a way to keep Penny."

"I appreciate the thought, but legality is against me there," Emily shook her head. "They would _never _let someone like me, a single mother under twenty-five, adopt any child. It doesn't help that I have no paying job."

"Emily, don't forget: I am a lawyer," Joanne pointed out. "I'm sure, if you give me a bit of time, I could find some loophole in the adoption laws that would enable you to keep Penny."

"As for the money," Mark added. "I still have a bit left over from the work I did at Buzzline. That's yours for the taking."

"Mimi and I can also throw in some of the money from our teaching jobs at NYU," Collins offered. "And we still have the ATM at the Food Emporium."

"OH, OH!" Maureen inputted. "And I could do a protest against closing this place down, and…"

"Why does it _always _have to be a protest with you?" Roger fired out.

"It might not be much, Emily," Mimi smiled. "But it might be enough to keep the Center open for a little longer." Emily suddenly shook her head, frowning.

"No. No," she said. "No, I… I couldn't take your money. It wouldn't be right."

"And what would be right? Us sitting back and not helping out a friend who was in need?" Collins stated. "We're helping you out, Emily, whether you like it or not." Emily paused, looking around at the Bohemians, before bowing her head.

"I have to know," she replied finally, looking back up and smiling weakly. "I _have _to know. What did I do, to deserve friends like you?"

"Come on, we better get started," Mark smiled at the photographer. "We only got a month. That's not very long."

* * *

**AN:** If anyone is interested in seeing what Wenceslas looks like, do a Google image search for 'miniature pot bellied pig'. It's the last picture in row one. I also hope, by now, I've convinced readers that Emily is not just another Mary Sue. If not, I'm sorry, I'm doing the best I can.


	10. No Words Were Needed

The next month went by rather quickly. With Mark's Buzzline money, and portions of Collins and Mimi's paychecks, the money to keep the Center open increased steadily. Mark had even convinced Emily to try and sell some of her pictures on the street, an act that not only brought in a few hundred dollars alone, but had also amazed Emily, who had never had the confidence to consider placing her work up for sale. Now the moment of truth had come. The bankers who dealt with the financial funding for the Center were due to arrive at any moment. The Bohemians, minus Roger, whom Mimi and admitted had been disappearing quite frequently lately, were gathered around Emily in her room, watching as she scribbled out the total profits from their efforts on a yellow scratch pad.

"Great," Emily groaned finally. "It's still not enough."

"Hold on," Roger announced as he suddenly entered the room. "Add this to the pot." To everyone's surprise, he deposited a reasonable stack of money on the table in front of Emily.

"Roger, where'd you get that?" Mark asked, visibly shocked.

"Well," he began sheepishly. "I didn't want to say anything before, 'cause I didn't want to get your hopes too high. But I've been playing my guitar on the street corners, kinda like how Angel used to get her money, remember? That's all I managed to get, but I really hope it's enough." After a silence, in which everyone was too stunned to speak, Mimi let out an excited shriek, and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him full on the lips.

"Oh, Roger, babe! That was so sweet!" she cried. "So _that's _where you've been disappearing to all this time!"

"So Emily, is it enough?" Collins prompted. The Bohemians stood by as Emily added Roger's contribution to their total on her scratch pad, and compared it to the foreclosure notice. After a few tense seconds, she lowered the papers.

"We're... still a few hundred dollars short," she announced in defeat. "And time's up." Emily got up from the table and turned to face the window. In the street, she saw the funding people had arrived, and were now walking into the Center. "I really thought I had a chance."

"Emily, we're so sorry," Maureen said, in an attempt to comfort her.

"Forget it, Maureen. We did our best. It just wasn't good enough, you know? Thanks for trying." Sighing, Emily once again fiddled with her locket. a move that had became almost characteristic of her. "I wish…" she whispered. "I wish Zack was here. He'd know what to do. He always knew what to do." Silently, she headed downstairs to see the funding people, to hand ownership of the Center to the bank.

* * *

Hours passed. Emily had returned to her room after the Center's financial backers had gone, and immediately plopped down on the bed, where she proceeded to absentmindedly scratch Wenceslas' ears. Collins had to step out a few moments ago, as he had an obligation to attend a faculty meeting at NYU. Joanne had also pulled Maureen away as well, stating that there was something they needed to do as soon as possible. Thus, only Mark, Roger and Mimi remained to try and cheer Emily up a bit.

"Maybe," Mimi began, still trying to remain hopeful, "If we talk the bank and ask them to give us more time…."

"Stop it, Mimi," Emily scolded, her eyes suddenly over-bright, as if fighting back tears. "They gave us a month, and it wasn't enough. The fat lady has sung. Our efforts weren't good enough. Perhaps," Emily looked away at this point, her voice starting to crack. "Maybe _I_ was never good enough."

"Don't talk like that!" Mark cried.

"Give me _another _explanation, Mark," Emily demanded, standing up and fixing him with an angry glare. "If seven years wasn't enough to earn the right to adopt Penny, then what is? I let her down, don't you get it? I promised I'd always be there to protect her, no matter what. If I can't even keep a promise I made to a little girl, then how can I ever say I was good enough? Can you answer me that?" When Mark couldn't come up with an answer, Emily sat back down on the bed, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"Emily," Roger, who had been quiet up to that point, spoke up. "I want you to listen closely, because this is important. Whatever you do, don't do what I did. When I lost April, leaving me to face my HIV status and my heroin withdrawal alone, I gave up on life. For a whole year, I wouldn't leave the Loft for anything. I didn't think anything mattered anymore. I was going to die anyway, so why should I even try? But that's when I met Mimi. With her help, I finally figured out that my life wasn't over yet. There was still so much to live for. I realize that this situation isn't the same thing, but in some aspects, it's the same. You can't give up, because there are still things worth fighting for. And when it really gets tough, you turn to your friends. Because we're always here for you, like the way they were always there for me." When Emily didn't show any sign of replying, Roger motioned to Mark and Mimi to leave the room with him. However, just when they started to walk out…

"Stay," Emily croaked, her voice strained by forced-back tears. "I'm sorry, all of you. I know I'm acting like a whiny brat and all…"

"No, you're not…" Mimi began.

"Please, let me finish. After my mom and dad died, it was just me and Zack. We were just two lost kids in a big city. He was seven years older then me, but he was still young himself, only eleven. But he promised me, that no matter what happened to us, he'd always be there to protect me. But he died, and I was left to practically fend for myself. Sure, I had Nana, and there was Uncle Kevin…"

"You have an uncle?"

"No. Not really. I'm talking about Officer Kurtz. I told you before my brother, Zack, was a cop when he was alive. He and Officer Kurtz were in the same precinct. In fact, they were partners. Actually, when I think about it, their relationship wasn't unlike the one Roger has with Collins. When Zack died, Officer Kurtz made it a habit to check up on me from time to time, sometimes bringing a care package of food, and sometimes some money. Not much, just enough to help me get by. 'Cause when Zack died, I was still a minor, see?

"But despite having Nana and Officer Kurtz around, it still wasn't the same. They weren't Zack. He'd promised me that he'd always be around to protect me. But then he died. It was a little over a year later that Penny was born. That was one day I'll never forget. I had never seen an actual newborn before then, so I was a little taken aback by how small she was. I even said she was almost as small as a penny. Needless to say, the name 'Penny' stuck. I don't know what it was exactly, but when she was born, I think I actually saw a bit of myself in her. Her entire family dead, with no one to really depend on. I guess I dared to hope that there was some sign in all that, like it was meant to be, like it was my one true calling to be the one who'd look after her, and take care of her, and just be all the things Zack was for me. And so, I made the same promise Zack made me, that I'd always be there to protect her, no matter what. But now, it's all going to end the same way. I'm going to break my promise to Penny, just like how Zack broke his promise to me."

"Emily," Mark sighed. Emily instantly broke down and cried.

"I hated Zack for a while after he died," she sobbed. "I hated him for breaking his promise. I hated him for abandoning me. But most of all, I hated myself, because I _couldn't _hate him, even though I wanted to. And I hated myself even more for feeling that way. What if Penny starts hating me, too?"

As Emily continued to cry, one-by-one, Roger, Mimi and Mark all joined her on the bed, all three encasing the photographer in a comforting hug. It was a mutual non-spoken agreement that no words were needed.

* * *

**AN:** Well, how's that for an emotional break down? Hope you liked this chapter. There will be a lot more on Emily's past pretty soon, so get ready for that: I promise there's a point to including her personal history. Until next time...


	11. Never Let Go

**AN: **Before I start this chapter, I just want to send out a big 'thank you' to everyone who has been reading this story so far. According to my 'Stats' page, this has now become the most popular story of all the ones I've written so far, with over 1,250 hits and climbing! I'm seriously moved, and I thank each and every one of you.

Now, on with the story...

* * *

Morning arrived with a bright blazing blood red sun, which shone into Mark's face, waking him instantly. At the present time, he was sprawled out on the floor in Emily's room. Roger and Mimi were both still asleep, curled up in an easy chair, holding one another. None of them felt very comfortable with leaving Emily alone that night, so they had all decided to stay.

Mark looked over at Emily who was curled up in her bed. He could still see slight hints of tear stains standing out on her cheeks. Feeling a fresh wave of sympathy for his friend, Mark walked over and tucked her blankets closer around her before moving on to the window and gazing out at the city. He would never know just how long he stood there, but he was brought out of his stupor when he heard a floorboard creak behind him. Turning around, he saw Emily was awake and now standing behind him. Her eyes were still red from crying, and she was hugging her quilt tightly around her.

"You guys didn't have to stay, you know," she pointed out as she started to shuffle over to a trunk.

"We wanted to," Mark insisted.

"Thank you. I don't know how I can ever convey how grateful I am for all your help this past month."

"I just wish we could have done more." Mark watched as Emily opened the trunk and took out a very old lop-eared plush rabbit. "A bunny?"

"It's… Mr. Twiggers," Emily confessed, fondling the long ears nostalgically. "I've had him since before I can remember. My dad gave him to me when my mom and I came home from the hospital after I was born. He always told me that this was a special rabbit, and if I kept him safe, good things would happen to me. I… I want Penny to have him now. Hopefully, if there is some bit of luck in him, Penny will find a way to unlock it. I know I never managed to."

"For what it's worth," Mark began, placing a hand on Emily's shoulder, "I think you would have made a great mother for Penny."

"Thanks, Mark. You're a true friend. Never let anyone tell you otherwise." At that moment, the door opened, and, as if she had sensed that they were talking about her, Penny walked in.

"Good morning, Emily," Penny smiled. "Nana says that breakfast's nearly done. We're having blueberry pancakes."

"Mark," Emily said softly. "You, uh,… you head down with Mimi and Roger, okay? Penny and I; we got a lot to talk about, you know?" Mark solemnly woke his sleeping friends up before the trio moved to the door.

"We'll be downstairs if you need us," Mark offered.

"Thank you," Emily nodded, sitting on her bed and pulling Penny up onto her lap. From the doorway, Mark couldn't help but pause for a moment, listening in on the conversation.

"Penny, listen to me for a moment," Emily began. "You've all been told what's going to happen to the Center, haven't you?"

"Yes, Nana told us all a week ago. Everyone else is all set to move later on today," Penny responded. "I'm gonna miss them. Especially Rupert and Jerry. It was never boring with them around, was it?"

"No. It wasn't." Emily sighed. "But, Penny, the thing is… I… we have to…"

"Emily? You're not _that_ upset about them leaving, are you? The children's hospital isn't that far. Nana says we can still stop by to check up on them. Things aren't going to change all that much, right?" Penny's naivety over the situation was almost too much for Emily to take. From the crack in the door, Mark watched as Emily pulled Penny closer, before softly singing to the child.

_"I can't understand it.  
The search for an answer is met with a darker day.  
And we've been handed these moments forever.  
But I'm reassured there's another way.  
You don't have to close your eyes.  
There is room for love again.  
Ease the pain to realize all that love can be.  
Forced apart by time and sand.  
Take a step and take my hand.  
And don't let it go. Never let go."_

Mark couldn't stand to hear anymore, and quickly went down to join Mimi and Roger downstairs.

* * *

Nana sat at The Center's dining hall table with Mark, Roger and Mimi, the four of them eating in silence. During the meal, Collins, who clearly had decided to stop by for Emily's sake, stepped in.

"How's she holding up?" he asked.

"Not so good," Mimi sighed. "Poor girl cried herself to sleep last night. You should have seen her, sobbing about how she felt after Zack had died, and how she was afraid Penny might hate her for not being able to adopt her…."

"Hold on one moment!" Nana looked up in surprise. "You mean to say that Emily _actually _started talking about her past with you?"

"Yeah, that's right. Why?"

"It's just a first. She hasn't talked about her past with _anyone _before. Up until now, she's only talked about it with Zack. Do you think it's possible that she…"

"She what?" Mark urged.

"She actually trusts you lot!"

"Well, stranger things have happened," Roger scowled.

"Oh, no. Don't take offense. It's simply that she won't even go over some points in her past with me, and I'm just not sure if it's just a result of the pressure valve finally starting to break, or if something about you people makes Emily feel more at ease. All I do know is that Emily has usually tried to deal with her problems on her own, because she's afraid of becoming a burden to others. Heaven sakes, she won't even _pray _at night, because she insists that God has more important things to do with His time then to bother with her petty requests. She's always tried to put everything on herself, even when she can't handle it." Nana suddenly started to chuckle to herself. "I still remember, that time Mimi invited her to have dinner with all of you for the first time a few months back. The next day, she couldn't stop talking about you, did you know that? I've known Emily for practically her whole life. When she came home that night, she was laughing so hard, there were actually tears in her eyes. Emily has _never _laughed like that. Not even when Zack was alive. And then, for the first time in a long time, she actually started doing things for herself, instead of concentrating solely on the needs of the children here. Before meeting you, her entire schedule revolved around these children. She even conditioned herself to wake up automatically in the middle of the night, just to go down and check up on them all. But now she's going off and window shopping with Mimi, Maureen and Joanne, or joking around with Roger and Collins, or talking with Mark while critiquing each others work…"

"You're blaming us for making her shirk her duties here?" Mark accused.

"No! Not blaming. _Thanking _you. Emily is still young. I want her to spend more time just enjoying being young while she can, doing all the things that twenty-three-year-old girls are _supposed _to do, instead of being the responsible caretaker twenty-four-seven. If it's not too bold for me to say, I think it was a _very _lucky day for Emily when you crashed your bike outside the Center, Mark." As Mark opened his mouth to speak, the door in The Center's entryway burst open with a bang. Seconds later, Maureen and Joanne hurried in.

"Where's Emily?" Maureen cried, looking extremely excited about something.

"Oh, for goodness sakes, guys!" Emily, no doubt called down by the sound of the door flying open so quickly, instantly appeared at the foot of the stairs with Penny next to her. "I swear, if you've broken that door, I'm not paying the repair bill."

"Emily!" Joanne exclaimed. "We've found you a job! A _paying_ job!"

"Wh…what?" Emily looked between the two, clearly confused as to what they were talking about.

"I've been going over the adoption rules, and talked with the adoption agencies, and there's still hope!" Joanne quickly explained. "Since you've been caring for children for so long, they're willing to let you bypass the age and marital status points. But they won't ignore being jobless."

"Way to burst a bubble, guys."

"No. We found you a job! _The Village Voice_ is in need of a photojournalist. Maureen and I just got off the phone with them. They're just asking to see a portfolio of your work, then the position's yours!" Emily stood stock still, looking incredibly like a stunned beast. Seconds later, her shock melted away, and she let out cry of excitement.

"Nana, quick! Where'd you put my portfolio?" she cried, dashing across the room to grab her Yankees cap, which was hanging from a coat rack on the wall.

"The hall closet!" Nana called after her. Before heading out the door, Emily stopped to give Penny a tight hug.

"You just sit tight here for a bit, Penny. When I get back, we're going out for ice cream. Things are _finally _turning around." With that, Emily raced out the door, with the other Bohemians following her.

"Aw, Maureen, Joanne, I owe you guys _big_!"

"You can just include us in that ice cream treat, and we'll call it even," Maureen joked.

* * *

**AN: **FYI, the song Emily sings to Penny really does exist. It's called 'Never Let Go', sang by Josh Groban and Deep Forest. I know it probably didn't exist during the time period in question, but it's just one heck of a song, and I really thought it fit the mood.  
The remaining chapters should be posted quite frequently from here on in, since I finally think I've worked out all the bugs and twists in the plot. So, until next time...


	12. Taken

**AN:** I'm posting two chapters at once, to make up for this one being quite short. To warn all readers, there's gonna be some drama now, but keep in mind: What Emily said in the 'No Words Were Needed' chapter was not true: the fat lady has not sang yet, and she will not have sang until I say this story is complete.

* * *

Penny and Nana watched from the door as the van drove off, taking the other children to the children's hospital.

"I really hope they'll be happy there," Penny stated, hugging Mr. Twiggers closer to her.

"I'm sure they will be," Nana nodded, ushering Penny back inside. "Now, how about going upstairs and getting dressed?" she suggested, noticing the little girl was still in her pajamas. "You'll want to be ready when Emily and the others come back." Penny obediently went upstairs, coming back down five minutes later. As soon as she reached the bottom step, she heard voices in the next room. Nana was there, talking to a tall, stern-looking woman Penny recognized at Ms. Perkins, the woman in charge of adoption at the Center. A middle-aged man who looked as if he was of Hispanic descent was standing nearby.

"Mrs. Chang, I am simply following regulations," Ms. Perkins was saying. "I'm sure you understand. If you make this harder then it has to be…"

"What's going on?" Penny spoke up, announcing her presence.

"Ah, so here's the one," Ms. Perkins glanced down at the freckled-face child, motioning to the Hispanic man. "Penny, this is Colmillo."

* * *

Emily paused in the street, turning her face up to the bright mid-morning sun, her eyes closed in contentment, and a broad smile on her face.

"You're all probably sick of hearing this by now," Emily grinned, turning to face her friends. "But I _really _can't thank you enough. I'd have never managed to get through without your help."

"What are friends for?" The Bohemians continued to walk down the street in their return to the Center, chatting away about the ice cream treat Emily had promised them all.

"I'm getting strawberry!" Mimi announced.

"Yeah, cookies and cream would really taste good to me," Emily agreed. "I might have to take double insulin shots later, but it's worth it." As they approached the Center, however, a rusty looking car pulled away from the curb and drove past them. Through the back window, they could all see Penny inside the car.

"Emily! Emily, help!"

"PENNY!" Emily broke out into a run after the car, but it quickly sped up, leaving her standing in the street, staring after the disappearing car with a mixture of shock and pain. A second later, she tore up the steps to the Center. The others all hurried in after her, making it inside in time to see her in the mist of a screaming fight with Ms. Perkins. "WHY? Why'd you do that, you stupid woman!"

"Miss Goodhall," Ms. Perkins scolded sternly. "My job is to place children in suitable, stable environments. Colmillo had filled out all the paperwork. His record precedes him, and he had exceptional good words from his references."

"No! I got a job, don't you get it? I told you guys time and time again that I could take care of her! What do I gotta do to convince you people?"

"The deadline has passed for you, Miss Goodhall," Ms. Perkins had taken up a tone of finality. "Perhaps it's best you start thinking about what's best for that girl."

"_I'm_ what's best for her."

"This matter is closed, Miss Goodhall. Good day to you."

"Good? _LITTLE LATE FOR THAT_!" Emily shouted as Ms. Perkins walked out.

"Emily, I'm sorry," Nana began. "I tried to stop her. I stalled them as long as I could."

"You should have fought harder," Emily replied in a dangerous whisper. "You should have… egged his windshield, popped his tires, _anything_."

"Please, there's nothing I could have done," Nana insisted. "Obstruction of legality, Emily. She was threatening us with obstruction of legality. What did you want me to do? Get out into the middle of the street and block the car with my body?"

"I WOULD HAVE!" Emily stormed over to the stairs, but sank to the ground before she reached them. After a moment's hesitation, Mark walked over and placed a hand on Emily's shoulder. The defeated photographer slapped it away, at first, but when Mark tried again, she let out a quiet sob, and reached back to place her hand on his, in a gesture of gratitude for his consolation attempt.


	13. Emily's Baggage

The Bohemians all sat in The Center's Dining Hall as Nana placed bowls of the remaining Mac and Cheese in front of each of them.

"I'm not really hungry," Emily stated simply as Nana tried to place the seventh bowl in front of her.

"You really can't give up, Emily," Maureen offered. "You can still go up against this guy in a custody battle. I'm sure Joanne could represent you."

"On what basis?" Emily asked. "He hasn't abused her, has he? He's not an alcoholic, is he?"

"Well, perhaps," Joanne tried, "I could look up on this Colmillo person. Maybe I could find some bit of evidence that could help out." Seeing that Emily wasn't about to argue or point out fault, Joanne took that as a 'yes'. "Nana, could I see Penny's adoption papers? I want to know this man's full name."

"Of course. Right here," Nana held up some papers, reading over them as she passed them to Joanne. "The adoption of Miss Penny Hope Hollingsworth, by a Colmillo DeLarata…"

"What did you say?" Mimi's head shot up in surprise. "By _who_?"

"Colmillo DeLarata," Nana repeated. "Why?"

"Let me see that!" Mimi took the adoption papers and stared at the name. "Oh… oh my Go… OH, SH-T!"

"Mimi, what is it?"

"Colmillo DeLatrata! That's not a real name!" she cried in a panic. "It's Spanish! Colmillo de la rata, literally translated: fang of the rat!"

"The Rat Fangs!" Mark realized. Emily's face instantly froze. It took her a few seconds to snap out of it, but once she did, she was on her feet, rage practically radiating off her, before starting to storm out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Nana called.

"Where do you think? I'm getting Penny back."

"Don't be foolish. You don't even have any idea where they've taken Penny, for starters. How could you possibly figure out where they are now?"

"The traditional way. Look." Once again, Emily started to leave but Collins moved forward and took her arm, holding her back. "Let go, Collins."

"You're upset and not thinking straight, Emily. Take a moment to assess the situation. This is a street gang, and they're been known to murder people. If you run off blindly, you're liable to get yourself killed."

"I can't just sit here. They could kill her, and it's my fault she's in this situation. I don't expect any of you to understand…"

"We do," Roger stated. "We know they're after you, Emily. We heard what you and Officer Kurtz were saying, that day at the hospital, when you passed out after seeing Madison. Chances are they're trying to use Penny as bait. They're using her to get you to do something stupid. If you go off, you're playing into their hands, and doing exactly what they want you to do." It took Emily a moment to look back, her arms hanging limply at her sides.

"You… you've all known? This whole time? Then why are you still here?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you knew that they've been after me, you must have figured out that your lives are all in danger, too. Most people… they'd usually keep their distance from someone if they could get themselves killed from just _knowing_…."

"Last I checked, we're not 'most people'," Collins pointed out.

"Emily," Nana entered the exchange. "Perhaps… it's time you told them the full story. They're your friends. They have a right to know."

"I can't," Emily replied. "I… I don't want anyone else dying for my sake, Nana. I swore I wouldn't allow it long ago."

"And I've constantly been telling _you _there's no way you can deal with this on your own," Nana persisted. "Zack wouldn't have wanted you to face all of this by yourself."

"Zack didn't have much of a problem with facing his trials alone towards the end, if you'd remember."

"Emily, you're _not Zack_!" Nana began to scold the photographer. "You will _never _be Zack. And you shouldn't have to be. Just because Zack died before his time, that doesn't mean _you _have to, or have you forgotten what Zack told you before he died?"

"I never forget," Emily responded after a very pregnant pause. Mark stood up and helped Emily into a chair.

"Emily, you can tell us. We'll listen," he assured. "No matter how bad it is, we're all here for you. We all have baggage of some kind. But no one here lets one of us carry it alone."

"You… you won't like what you hear."

"Try us." Emily slowly glanced around at the Bohemians, who were all waiting for her to answer.

"Nana?" she finally spoke. "You're, uh, gonna have to help me out here. Remember, I wasn't there when this started."

"Of course, Emily." Nana stepped up to Emily's side to convey the story, facing the Bohemians as she did so. "This whole mess with Emily and the Rat Fang Gang; it actually begins many years before Emily was even born. It begins with a young poet, Natalie, and Zeke, the son of an extremely well-off family."

* * *

**AN:** There might be a short span of time before the next chapter's up. I'm still writing it, but I do have it planned out. Anyway, the next couple of chapters are basically going to be flashbacks. Hopefully, they'll explain all previously unanswered questions to your satisfaction. Until next time...


	14. Connection

**AN:** Finally finished this chapter. It might seem rushed at parts, but I did my best. Those of you who love cute, romantic stories will most likely enjoy this chapter. I also hope I made things as historically accurate as possible. Once again, I did my best.

* * *

**New York: 1959**

"Nana, where's my beret?" The fifty-two year old Nana Chang looked over at a young woman with extremely frizzy mousy-brown hair and violet eyes, dressed in a black beatnik dress.

"Natalie, don't you think that old beret's past its retirement?" Nana smiled at her young friend.

"But that beret is my lucky beret!" Natalie insisted with a laugh. "I always wear it at poetry readings. Oh, wait! Here it is!" Natalie held up an old black beret, which she pulled on her head. "There! Now I'm ready! How do I look?"

"Honestly? Like a French spy!"

"Nana, come on!" Natalie laughed in good-nature, before heading for the door, giving the older woman a quick kiss on the forehead. "You gonna' come and see me tonight at Gaslight, right?"

"I never miss it, Natalie. Ever."

* * *

A young man with medium brown hair and hazel eyes paused to examine his reflection in a shop window on Bleeker Street. He was dressed in a faded suede vest, and corduroy pants, at, at first glance, fit right in with the other people walking by.

"Looking good, Zeke!" he complemented himself. "Not even your old man would know it's you, unless he really looked, and there's no chance of that happening. He'd never look at anyone he'd deem as 'low-class'. Tonight, you're no lucky little brat born into money. You're just a normal boy, out for a normal wind-down in the city that never sleeps." Zeke grinned to himself as he entered a small establishment called Gaslight Café, pleased at his luck. Finding a vacant seat was rare, from what he had heard. But there was one left, which provided a good view of the stage.

"Herbal tea, please," Zeke asked the counter clerk. As Zeke sat back and enjoyed his drink, a young woman in a black beatnik dress and matching beret, with her frizzy hair tied back into a ponytail, moved up onto stage, where a spotlight shone down on her. The girl took a seat on a stool that had been placed on the stage, and began to recite a poem

_If someone were to ask you,_

_"What is the Strongest Thing on Earth today",_

_What would be your response?_

_Would you answer Steel,_

_Which makes buildings grow tall,_

_Or creates machines of yellow-gold,_

_To create or destroy?_

_Would you respond Stone,_

_That can cleave a skull,_

_Break a bone,_

_Or build mighty walls?_

_Or would you claim that Concrete,_

_Which covers the ground_

_To make way for transports_

_Earns the title of 'Strongest'?_

_All good answers,_

_Yes, It's true._

_But what brings Steel towers to the ground,_

_When they grow old and brittle?_

_What can pound against Stone endlessly,_

_Until it comes reformed as Sand?_

_What breaks apart the Concrete,_

_And creates a hole for the Sun?_

_Wind,_

_Water,_

_And Earth._

_Forces of Nature_

_That brings Man's work to fall to Dust._

_Truly, it is Nature's might,_

_That earns the title of Strongest._

As the young poet moved off the stage, accompanied by the snapping of fingers, Zeke realized that he had been so entranced by the girl's performance; he had been holding his cup halfway to his lips for the entire time. Quickly he placed the drink back on the table and continued to watch as Natalie went around the room, collecting money in a whicker basket. Never taking his eyes off her, he dug into his wallet.

* * *

Natalie always made a mental note to thank anyone who was willing to cast money her way after her poetry recitals with a large smile, even if it was only a cent. Every little bit helped, after all. And tonight was just like all the others. However, as she passed by the tables, a hand dropped a bill into the basket. When Natalie glanced down at it, she froze in shock. It was a fifty! That had to be a mistake. Someone must have taken out the wrong bill. She turned around to see a boy about her age, watching her intently with a wide smile on his face. Hesitantly, she moved back over to him.

"Excuse me, sir. But I think you made a mistake."

"Have I?"

"Yes. This is a fifty dollar bill you gave me."

"Oh. Yes, I believe it is. Is there a problem with that?"

"Okay, what do you want?"

"What makes you think I want something?"

"No one gives anyone this much without wanting something in return, mister." The boy continued to look at her in silence for a moment. Feeling a little self-conscious, Natalie started to walk off. But the young man spoke again."

"Okay. You caught me. There is something I'd like."

"And what is that?"

"Your name, for starters." Natalie gave him an incredulous look.

"Hold that thought, Mr. Suave," she finally replied, before moving on to finish collecting tips.

* * *

Natalie rejoined the young man a few minutes later, seeing that he now had two cups of herbal tea in front of him.

"I hope I ordered a flavor you like," he smiled, gesturing to the second cup.

"Okay then, first you willingly over tip, now you buy me tea," Natalie mused. "What's your catch? You can't possibly be just a nice guy. You gotta have an angle."

"No angle. I just want your name, for starters, remember." Natalie eyed him appraisingly.

"It's Natalie."

"Good. Now I can say this: You're very talented, Natalie. You have one beautiful mind."

"So I take it you enjoy poetry?"

"I liked _yours_."

"Now that does it," Natalie fought back a laugh as she felt a warm blush rise up to her cheeks. "You could charm the whiskers of a cat; you buy tea for strange girls you just met at poetry recitals…."

"What makes you think every guy has an angle?"

"Most men do."

"I'm not most men." The discourse continued on for a good fifteen minutes. Natalie continued to test the young man with every trick and trap she knew, anything to make him slip-up. But every time, his answer pleasantly surprised her.

"Forgive the interruption, Natalie," the counter clerk suddenly stepped in. "But I really need to ask you and your friend to leave- it's well past closing time."

"Oh!" Natalie looked at the wall clock in surprise. "I'm so sorry!"

"Not at all," the counter clerk smiled, assuring her that he wasn't mad. Natalie and the young man left Gaslight Café and stopped just outside the door, where the boy turned to Natalie.

"So, are you going to be here again tomorrow night?" he asked.

"Yes, I am."

"Good. Maybe I'll see you." With that, he started to walk off.

"Hold up!" Natalie called, causing him to stop and look back immediately. "You never gave me _your_ name, remember?" The boy smiled broadly.

"It's Zeke," he replied, before continuing on his way.

* * *

In a grandly furbished apartment suite, a young man was pacing, looking very unnerved about something. He immediately stopped when the door opened, and Zeke walked in.

"Oh, good grief!" the boy groaned, taking in the fact that Zeke was still dressed in his 'street garb'.

"Hello, Melrone," Zeke greeted his brother.

"Why? Why the disguise again, Zeke?" Melrone scolded in exasperation.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Melrone," Zeke announced, paying no heed to the question. "No one treated me like I was some rich boy."

"Will you listen to me?" Melrone begged. "Zeke, if Father knew what you were always up to, he'd hit the ceiling."

"And I know _you'll _never tell him, so we don't have a problem, do we?" Zeke laughed.

"Will you please be serious? What can you possibly find out in the city streets that can top what we were born to? Help me out here. We're heirs to a rich father; we can easily go on holidays to places other people spend their whole lives trying to afford to visit, what am I not getting?"

"Melrone, I have no life of my own here. I need the freedom to do things I want. Why do I have to give up those freedoms because of being born with a prestigious family name?"

"Zeke, please. This disappearing thing has got to stop. It's too dangerous."

"Oh, calm down, Melrone. I was perfectly safe."

"I'm not worried about you, I'm worried about me: you can't keep running off to mix with the lower classes. Father notices every time you do, and I'm running out of excuses." Zeke shook his head, and went off to his bedroom, leaving Melrone seriously distressed. "If he wants to kill me, why doesn't he just push me out the window and get it over with?"

* * *

The next morning Zeke walked the streets of New York. This time, he was with Melrone. The brothers were accompanying their father, Max, who was meeting some important financial backers. Zeke barely paid attention to Max's ramblings on how his sons needed to see how business was done, since they would one day be dealing with the same sort of affairs. There were more important things to think about, like how he was going to find a way to return to Gaslight that night, and hear more of Natalie's poetry. At that moment, his father's angry shouts brought him out of his daydreaming. A pair of small children, clearly belonging to a lower east side family, had been playing with a ball, but one child had miss-thrown and it had nearly hit Max's leg, prompting the grown man to start shouting, complaining about how disgraceful it was that street waifs weren't confined to a place where they couldn't be seen. Zeke was just about to try to calm his father down, but someone else beat him to the punch.

"Hey, stuffed shirt!" A young woman marched up to Max. "How about taking your millions and use them to purchase some courteousness, instead of rare champagnes and silkworms."

"Out of my sight, wench. Learn your place," Max boomed.

"I know my place, and it's right here, defending those who can't protect themselves, especially from self-absorbed, dried-up snobs like you."

"You dare speak to me like that again, woman, and I'll have the police down here…"

"Dad, calm down!" Zeke stepped forward. "You'll get a heart attack if you…." Zeke immediately stopped talking when he recognized the girl who had been fighting with his father. It was Natalie. And from the look on her face, she clearly remembered him. Natalie stared straight at him in shock, but the surprise quickly shifted into fury and accusation. Before Zeke could say anything to correct her obvious assumptions that he had deliberately deceived her into thinking he was a nice guy last night, Natalie had stormed off.

* * *

As night fell, Zeke sat in his room alone, trying in vain to erase the betrayed look Natalie had given him when the truth had came out. He had to make her realize that he wasn't like his father; that he wasn't leading her astray the other night as Gaslight. After making sure no one was outside his room, Zeke quickly changed back into his 'street garb', which he kept hidden in the back of his closet, before sneaking out of his family's suite, and out to the New York City streets.

* * *

Inside the Gaslight Café, Natalie took a seat at a lone table, taking a long sip of herbal tea. She had just completed another set of poetry recitals, and was currently taking a moment to rest.

"I enjoyed your poetry tonight," a familiar voice spoke into her ear.

"Ah. I remember you," Natalie commented, glancing coldly over at Zeke, who had joined her at the table without her noticing. "So, Rich Boy, what compelled you to return to the rough, riff-raff side of this concrete jungle?" Zeke quickly cleared his throat.

"Oh, the searing pain, when those living in poverty assume that all those born to money look down upon the so-called dregs of society, for it is in doing so, they become guilty of the very crime they scorn so deeply. The crime of stereotyping" When Zeke looked back at Natalie, in order to see her reaction, he was pleased to see her entire face lit up with astonishment.

"Oooh, I must say, boy. You are simply overflowing with the right stuff," she grinned broadly. "Is smooth talking one of the classes at those high-end finishing schools, because you are obviously top of the class?"

"Honestly? I zoned out throughout all of finishing school. Couldn't wait to get out: spending all my free time in a cramped, stuffy dorm room? I felt like veal. In fact, sometimes I wonder about the possibility that there was a mix-up at the hospital."

"How so?"

"Natalie, have you ever had one of those moments where you step back, and look at everything around you, and think 'this is not my life'? I feel like that every day." When Zeke noticed Natalie looked confused by this statement, he started to explain. "I'm supposed to be this spoiled little rich kid. I've been expected to behave and act a certain way. 'Walk with your head held proud, Zeke.' 'You're the heir to one the most respected names in America, Zeke.' 'Don't spare a glance to those on the street, Zeke' 'Everyone else is beneath you; don't disgrace yourself by consorting with them, Zeke.' It's all brainwashing. I should have been destroyed by all that after being exposed to it from birth. My brother certainly was. But not me. I still find myself on the inside, looking out, wanting and wishing to be a part of the real world."

"So that's why you made yourself up to look like…," Natalie surmised.

"One of you," Zeke finished. "Like a normal person. I know this probably sounds crazy, but I'd give _anything _to have what you have, and escape my glided cage. To think what I want, say what I want, go anywhere I please, without worrying about meeting with… Mr. and Mrs. Pippinpopple of the Pippinpopple Popcorn Fortune for afternoon luncheon, followed by an excruciatingly long stroll through their spacious grounds, admiring every stinking monotonous rosebush we come to." Natalie instantly started laughing, which caused Zeke to turn beet red. "Oh, great. Now you're laughing at me."

"No," Natalie insisted. "I'm laughing _with_ you. You have to be the most profound person I've ever met."

"So, do I take that as a complement?" Zeke asked hopefully.

"Perhaps," Natalie smiled, lightly running her index finger across the side of Zeke's hand, an act which made his heart rate skyrocket. Zeke returned Natalie's smile, and, emboldened by her small gesture, reached out to cover her hand with his.

"Meet me tomorrow, at the Bronx Zoo?" Zeke invited. "Around ten?"

"What about your luncheon with the Pippinpopples?" Natalie teased.

"Well… guess I'll just have to rain check."

* * *

The next day brought clear blue skies, ideal weather for a zoo trip. Zeke and Natalie met one another as scheduled, laughing over the phony story Zeke had told his father about meeting some boys from finishing school. Zeke was personally surprised by the fact Natalie wasn't bothered by seeing the creatures in the reptile house, or some of the other non-cute creatures that were on exhibit. After what seemed like hours, they made a final visit to Butterfly Garden. It was shortly after arriving in this section that Zeke noticed Natalie was beginning to look downcast.

"Hey, is something wrong?"

"No. Just thinking."

"About?"

"Well, butterflies. Many people only see a beautiful insect. But they sometimes overlook one of the simple facts of nature. Butterflies pay the price for their beauty, for they only live for a short time, just long enough to leave behind their eggs. It's the same for cherry blossoms, the first blossoms to appear in the spring, but also the first to fall."

"Now I'm depressed," Zeke sighed.

"Don't be. You just have to remember where one thing falls, another grows. When butterflies die, they leave eggs that will eventually become caterpillars. And when the cherry blossoms fall, then soon there will be cherries."

"And you said _I'm_ profound."

"Sorry. It's the curse of being a poet. Your mind's always in overdrive." The two began to laugh as they continued on. As they walked however, Natalie's foot brushed against an uneven stone and she started to stumble. She scrunched her eyes closed, waiting for the fall, but it never came. Instead, she felt a pair of hands clamp onto her arms. When Natalie opened her eyes, she saw that Zeke had moved into her path to catch her before she fell, and was now looking down at her.

"Thanks, Zeke," Natalie smiled softly.

"Of course," Zeke grinned in return. It was in that moment that a mutual understanding passed between them. The kiss only lasted for a second before they pulled away, but their lips remained a centimeter apart, as if deciding what to do next. A moment later, they reached a decision. This time, the kiss shared by Zeke and Natalie was long, passionate, and perfect.

* * *

**Present Day**

"So they fell in love, didn't they?" Mimi guessed with a smile.

"Yes. They did," Nana confirmed. "Zeke made it a religious habit to sneak out almost every night to see Natalie's poetry recitals, after which they would spend hours on end, talking over tea, or walking in the park." As Nana spoke, she moved to an old picture frame, and handed it over to the Bohemians to look at. "That was taken six months after their one year anniversary. A week later, Zeke decided to make it official with Natalie."

"Emily," Maureen gaped at the picture of Zeke and Natalie. "These are your parents, aren't they? Oh, you look just like your mother."

"Yeah," Emily smiled slightly. "But I inherited my dad's hazel eyes."

"Zeke married Natalie in the early spring," Nana continued. "Only a few people attended. Zeke never told his family, of course. He wisely knew that his father would never tolerate the fact that his son and heir was marrying a woman who was 'beneath him.' And, for a time, Zeke's marriage to Natalie was successfully kept a secret from Max. However," Nana let out a heavy sigh. "Like many things, the secret couldn't remain forever."

* * *

**AN:** FYI, that poem Natalie recites is actually an original work by me! It was written as an assignment for my Intro to Literature class, during the poetry unit. Hope you enjoyed it. Also, don't you agree Zeke's dad, Max, is a royal jerk? If not, just wait until next chapter. Until next time...


	15. In Laughter, In Strife

**AN: **I recently looked over the timeline I worked out, and realized that there were some slight errors and miscalculations in previous chapters, specifically about the age of Zack at certain points. But I've gone back and did some revising. Hopefully, this won't hurt the overall story of Emily's past, and will make it more tragic.

* * *

**New York: 1961**

Zeke jogged up the street to a small quilt shop, and walked in.

"Morning, Nana!" Zeke greeted the old woman cheerfully, noticing her in the corner of the room, crocheting a multi-colored blanket.

"What, no 'good', Zeke?" Nana smiled up at the young man.

"Nana, dear friend, how do I know if today is a 'good' morning? I haven't lived it yet."

"You sound more and more like Natalie every day."

"That has to be the best complement I've ever received."

"Zeke!" The two looked up as a glowing Natalie entered the room, flying into Zeke's waiting arms.

"I take it your morning is going well, my darling?" Zeke asked, kissing his wife tenderly. Smiling, Zeke then knelt down so his head was level with Natalie's swollen abdomen. "And how are you?" he cooed, placing a few quick kisses onto the peak of the mound. "Are you being a good boy or girl for Mommy? Don't stay in there longer then you need to. Daddy's dying to meet you."

"And he, or she, _definitely _wants to meet you, too." Nana chucked. "Poor Natalie can't enjoy five minutes without that little one trying to kick its way out. Zeke beamed as he took Natalie's hand.

"Come on. I've got a table waiting at an outside café I found last week. You _must _be hungry, now that you've got two stomachs to fill."

* * *

The two walked down the street, Zeke taking extra care to make sure Natalie didn't exert herself too much.

"So what do you think?" Natalie began, looking down at her large belly. "Boy or girl?"

"Couldn't care less," Zeke grinned. "You know why? Because no matter what this child is, I know it'll be absolutely beautiful, just like its mother."

"You'll never lose your ability to charm the whiskers of a cat, will you?"

"No. You're stuck with that." Zeke replied, as they came together for a kiss.

"Zeke!" The couple broke apart in shock. Looking over, they froze at the sight of Melrone, gawking in stunned silence at Natalie.

"Melrone," Zeke groaned as his brother raced off. "Oh, Go… this is bad. This is _really _bad. He'll be telling Father, there's no doubt of that."

"Zeke, it'll be okay," Natalie whispered.

"Natalie, you remember what he's like! He'll _never _understand."

"But he's _still _your father," Natalie pointed out. "He might be stubborn and snobbish, but he's still your father. Yes, he'll probably be miffed for a while, but surely he'll accept that you're his son eventually, and," Natalie rubbed and patted her round belly, "No man, rich or poor, can deny his grandchild forever."

"Oh, Natalie," Zeke began to smile gently, embracing his child's mother. "You know, that's one of the reasons I love you. You see good in everyone."

* * *

The next night, Zeke stood by tensely in the small apartment where Natalie lived, rubbing her shoulders. Melrone had indeed told his father about Zeke and Natalie, and Max, and Zeke's mother, Connie, were coming here tonight to, as Max had put it, to 'discuss things'.

"Hello, Father." Zeke nodded in greeting as his parents walked into the apartment.

"So this must be Natalie," Connie surmised, studying the very pregnant woman sitting on a nearby chair. "She really _is _quite lovely, Max."

"Yes, that's nice, Connie." Max replied carelessly, his attention solely on Zeke. "Could I speak to you for a moment, Son? Man to man?"

"Natalie, come into the kitchen with me," Connie invited, as if sensing a storm brewing. "We can talk over tea." Natalie and Connie left the room together, with Zeke giving his wife's cheek a loving stroke as she passed.

"Alright, Dad. What do you want?" Zeke turned to his father in time to see the older man remove a large stack of money from his pocket. "What's that for?" Zeke asked, eyeing the money.

"It's quite alright, Zeke," Max chuckled with an annoyingly smug smile. "I understand that this baby makes you feel as if you need to stay with this woman. But the solution is quite simple. Just take her down to one of the clinics, and this money will take care of the problem."

"Problem?" Zeke gaped at his father. "Dad, you can't be asking me… you _actually _want me to kill my own child?"

"There's no need to get excited, my boy!" Max continued to maintain his annoyingly confident air. "After all, we all know how those low class street urchins are. I mean, how do you even know that child is really…?"

"Don't you _dare _even finish that sentence!" Zeke demanded. "That's my wife you're talking about. Don't you dare judge her. You don't even know her. And I'm certainly not taking your money, not when you're intending me to use it for something like _that_."

"Zeke, we both know this little brat is the only reason you married her. But one we eliminate…" Zeke, seething with anger, slapped the money out of his father's hand.

"I love Natalie, Father! I married her because I _love her_!"

"Oh, posh, Zeke. She is not of your class. You were born to uphold certain obligations. It's nice that you had a bit off fun on the side, but for actual marriage material? I highly advise you to choose a woman that's more suitable for you."

"I think you mean, more suitable for _your_ precious high society name and reputation," Zeke snarled. "Face it, Dad. That's all that matters to you. Your reputation and your money. You're so wrapped up in your stupid pride, you don't even have the decency to be happy for me and my new family."

"Honestly, Son. I thought I raised you better then this," Max growled.

"Better then what, Dad? Better then to fall in love? Better then to find a girl who means the world to me? Like it or not, Father, that's _your_ daughter-in-law, and she's carrying _your_ grandchild. But if you're too pig-headed to accept them, then you can't accept me!"

"I warn you, boy," Max spat. "You're making the biggest mistake of your life."

"Love is never a mistake, Dad," Zeke hissed out the word 'dad' with as much scorn and contempt as possible. The two men stood glaring at each other for a long time.

"Connie!" Max finally barked. "Get your coat! We're leaving." Before Max closed the door on his way out, he sent one final glare at his son.

"It's over, Zeke. Consider yourself disowned."

"No, sir," Zeke replied. "I'm the one that disowns _you_." Once Max had disappeared, Zeke punched the wall in frustration, leaving a large crack. Natalie, who had been watching tentatively, slowly walked over to her husband and placed a hand on his shoulder. Upon feeling the touch, Zeke raised his head, revealing a heavy flow of tears flowing down his cheeks. Choking back mixed sobs of anger, frustration, and fear, Zeke embraced his wife, his hand coming to rest on her swollen abdomen.

"It'll be alright," he whispered, more to himself then to Natalie and their unborn child. "Everything will be all right. We'll think of something….. We'll think of something."

* * *

**Present Day**

Nana let out a long sigh before continuing, rubbing her eyes with her wrinkled hand. "It was about two months later that Zack was born. I delivered him myself, since there wasn't time to get Natalie to a hospital. As for Zeke and Natalie, by pooling Natalie's poetry reading tips, and Zeke's paychecks from working at a loading dock in the harbor, they were always able to bring in enough money to provide for their family's needs. Together, they somehow managed to make ends meet."

"Then, I was conceived," Emily inputted, looking at the floor. "And when that happened, when I was born with my stinking diabetes, always needing expensive insulin…."

"Emily, they never blamed you," Nana assured. "It was just one of those things. Even if you weren't born with diabetes, things would still have been tight. But you have to remember that they both loved you. They never considered you a burden. You see," Nana looked back at the Bohemians. "The income they were making managed to provide for three people without much trouble. But it became much harder when a second child entered the picture. I remember, Natalie, without Zeke knowing, tried to visit Max, to ask him to help them, for the sake of his grandchildren. Max, however, was far more stubborn then an old mule, and dismissed her right off the back, even having security 'escort' her off the premises.

"Times were hard for both Zeke and Natalie. They were both desperate for money to provide for their family, and the jobs they held were not cutting it. So… when you're pushed up against the wall, sometimes the only option is to take the one you don't wish to take. Now, Emily already explained to me about some of your less-then-favorable past choices. So I do hope you won't judge Zeke and Natalie too harshly. What they ended up doing, it was done out of love for their children, Zack and Emily, and because they were at the end of their ropes."

"What… what did they do?" Joanne asked quietly.

"Zeke ended up joining the drug dealers on the street," Nana confessed. "And poor Natalie was reduced to selling herself." The Bohemians all glanced over at Emily, who was focusing her eyes up at the ceiling, as if determined not to cry. "I can assure you all that neither Zeke or Natalie were proud of what they did. In truth, it was killing them both. But, the fact remains that they loved each other, and their children, so much, that degrading themselves was a small price to pay. Roger, I believe you once asked Emily why she wouldn't judge you, Mimi, or any other person who once strayed down a bad path. I hope that answers your question. Because judging you would also mean judging her own parents, who both gave their lives for her and Zack."

"Then what happened?" Collins urged Nana to continue.

"Things continued the way they were for a few years. But then, the main kingpin of the drug ring Zeke was a part of began to plan out the creation of an all new drug, one that would most certainly be extremely lethal. What's more, he instructed all drug dealers under his jurisdiction to abduct young girls, to be used as guinea pigs in the production. Despite everything that had happened before, however, Zeke, unlike his fellow drug dealers, never sold his conscience, or his heart, to the trade. This new set of plans was going too far for his liking. Zeke was, first and forever, a good man. He couldn't follow through on these orders, nor could he let this new drug production continue. So, one night, Zeke, at great risk to his life, secretly stole the only existing plans for the drug's formula and, with Natalie and the children, fled the city. They went into hiding. I had no idea where they went; the letters they sent me never said. They always explained it was for my own safety. The drug ring Zeke had deserted was one of the largest in the city. Most of the other drug rings were branches off of this one. It was not inconceivable to assume that one of them could come to my home and try to question me. Zeke and Natalie never told me where they were hiding, so if that ever happened, I could honestly say I didn't know anything. Plausible deniability was essential." Nana got up at this point and began to pace for a moment before pausing to look at the group of avid listeners. "In case you haven't figured out by now, that drug ring in question was, in fact, an early incarnation of the Rat Fang Gang." As this information settled in, Nana returned to her seat and continued the story.

"What happened next was actually conveyed to me by Zack. He was the sole witness to this event. I was not there, naturally, and Emily was only four. Thus, her memories of this night are scattered, for good reason."

* * *

**AN: **And The Rat Fag Gang enters the picture. Bet you're starting to see why they'd be after Emily, now, huh?  
Yeah, I really enjoyed writing the confrontation between Zeke and Max for some reason. It's quite fun creating a character that's so easy to hate. And if you thought this chapter was sad and tragic, with the paths Zeke and Natalie were forced into taking, I suggest you have tissues handy for the next chapter. Until next time...


	16. The End of Innocence

**AN:** Warning. This chapter will be tragic, so you might want to have tissues handy...

* * *

**The Home of Zeke and Natalie, 1972**

Zeke strolled up the walk to his small house, where he could see the warm glow from the kitchen lamp. This indicated that Natalie was there, finishing dinner. Upon entering the room, he could not help but let out a laugh at the sight of four-year-old Emily, who, in an attempt to help out her mother, was trying to squeeze icing out of the tube and onto a small cake meant to celebrate Zack making it into the little league's major-division team. Unfortunately, she was getting more icing onto her arms and the counter then on the cake.

"Well, now. What do we have here? A little monkey or a master cake decorator?" Zeke announced, picking his daughter up and holding her over his head, fully enjoying her fit of giggles.

"Daddy! Stop!"

"Zeke, do put her down," Natalie scolded in good nature. "She'll get excited, and then she'll get hiccups." Zeke, smiling tenderly at his wife, who, even after bearing two children, still looked as beautiful as she did on the day they met, set Emily down onto the kitchen floor.

"All right, Emily. I guess the fun's over. Mommy's orders. Why don't you head upstairs? I think Zack would like some help organizing his baseball cards." Emily happily hurried off upstairs. It was no secret that Emily looked up to her brother Zack, and practically tailed him everywhere. Unlike other brothers, however, Zack never seemed to mind very much, and was always willing to watch Emily, even if it meant taking her along when he hung around with his friends.

Emily journeyed down the hall to her brother's room. When she opened the door, the first thing she noticed was that Zack's bedroom window had been shattered, broken glass all over the floor. At that moment, she heard a muffled shout. Looking over, Emily saw a pair of strange men standing in Zack's bedroom, one with his hand over the struggling Zack's mouth. At the moment, none of the men seemed to notice that a four-year-old girl had walked in.

"Now, listen, kid," the man who was not holding Zack captive stated. "We ain't gonna hurt ya. We just want your old man. Then we'll leave, nice and peaceful like. But if ya give us a hard time…" The man who had spoken held up a gun and waved it in Zack's face. Emily, while she was still too young to fully comprehend the danger, understood a bit about guns. Her parents had always told her that they were very dangerous, and could hurt people very badly.

"Leave my big broder alone!" Emily yelled, grabbing the stuffed bunny Mr. Twiggers, who she had left in Zack's room earlier that day, and used it to hit the man with the gun.

"Well, look who we have here, men!" Another man, who had been hidden in the shadows, picked Emily up by her shirt collar, and held her above the ground, the group of men all laughing at the way she was struggling in midair, trying to get out of the situation. "A boy and a widdle girl. Our man, Zeke, has been busy!"

"Let my children go, Ethan," Zeke and Natalie, no doubt alerted by Emily's shout, had appeared at the door.

"Ah, so there you are, Zeke," Ethan sneered. "I must say, very clever. Who'd have thought that you'd be actually hiding out in the cozy little suburbs, surrounded by soccer moms, and snot-nosed brats, riding their little tricycles up and down the street? Did you _seriously _think you could escape?"

"I knew you'd find us eventually, old friend," Zeke replied wearily. "I never doubted it."

"And yet, you left. Oh, Zeke, you can't do that. You pledged your services to the ring. You were one of us, Zeke. That will never change, even if you escape the city borders."

"I gave up that life."

"You don't give up service with us. It's what you are, until the day you die."

"I won't go back with you," Zeke insisted. "Kill me if you must. But let my children go. You have no claim on them."

"Oh, see, that's where you're mistaken. We're not here to bring you back, as I'm sure you're well aware. I'm only going to ask once: where is it, Zeke? Where's the formula?"

"I don't have it," Zeke replied.

"Don't patronize me, Goodhall. We know you took it. And we know you wouldn't have just discarded it. That's not the type of thing you leave lying around."

"That is true. But I am telling you truthfully that I don't have the formula. I have not had it for years now."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"With all due respect, Ethan, I'm not the one who breaks into someone else's home and threatens two children who have done nothing wrong. So who would be the more trustworthy of the two of us?"

"Oh, I get it. You've hidden it, haven't you? In that case, just tell us where it is, and we'll forget we ever saw you. That's a reasonable bargain, don't you agree?"

"I no longer make bargains with merchants of death." Ethan frowned as Zeke glared at him in defiance. "I do _not_ have the formula. And, for the sake of my children, you will not learn its whereabouts from me. I won't let my children be the offspring of a man who sold his soul to the devil."

"Oh, now that was very moving, Zeke," Ethan taunted. "It almost moved me to tears." And then it happened. Ethan moved his gun to the right and pulled the trigger, hitting Natalie in the forehead. Zeke cried out in protest, dropping to his wife's still form, knowing even then that it was too late.

"Ow!" The man who had been restraining Zack cried out as the boy bit into his hand. Once Zack was free, he went for Emily, holding her protectively and staring as his father knelt at his mother's body, the tears coursing down his cheeks.

"You made your choice, Zeke." Ethan taunted. "But now, you're condemned your children to the life of orphans. Oh, but don't worry, I'm not so heartless as to not put them out of their misery." Zeke tore his eyes away from the paling face of his beloved wife, to see Ethan turn the gun on Zack and Emily. At the last possible second, the grieving widower threw himself between Ethan and the children, resulting in the bullet embedding itself into his broken heart.

"Fool," Ethan snarled, kicking Zeke's body roughly with his boot. "You think _that _would keep me from those brats?" However, Zack took advantage of Ethan's distraction, and hurled the alarm clock from his bedside table at Ethan's hand, knocking the gun from his hand.

"Emily, run!" Zack cried out to his sister. Emily, however, was rooted to the spot, staring in fear at her parents' bodies, both of which were now lying in pools of fresh blood. "Emily!" Zack started to move toward her to snap her out of it, but a third gunshot rang out and a bullet flew by, nicking Zack's shoulder. Ethan had retrieved his gun and was now aiming it at the children once again. Instinct taking over, Zack darted out of the room and into his parent's old bedroom down the hall. In the top drawer, a place that Emily was too small to reach, Zeke had kept a gun of his own. He had made Zack promise that he would never touch it, unless it was a matter of defense. Zack dove for the drawer, pulling out the gun just as Ethan appeared in the door.

The next minute was a blur for Zack. One moment, he saw Ethan raising the gun that had killed his parents. The next, a loud gunshot rang through the room. Seconds later, a scarlet stain began to blossom on Ethan's shirt, above his heart. Ethan only had a moment to look at his wound before he dropped to the floor.

* * *

Back in Zack's bedroom, the remaining two men heard the shot.

"Sounds like Ethan took care of one whelp."

"Yeah. Hope he doesn't mind that we didn't wait for him to deal with the girl. Me, I'm rather partial to seeing _slow death_." The men laughed as one of them pushed the still paralyzed Emily against the wall, his hands enclosed around her neck. At that moment, a new shot rang out. The man who was currently strangling little Emily looked over in time to see his associate slump down to the floor in death. Zack stood in the doorway, his father's gun still smoking from the barrel. The preteen boy was shaking, but there was a hard, maddened glint in his eyes.

"Let. Go," Zack hissed. "Let…go… of my…sister."

"Whoa, okay, kid! Just take it easy!"

"You… scumbag…Mom… Dad….You…." Zack suddenly let out an anguished holler, before shooting the third man dead. Seconds after the dead man dropped to the ground, a whimper came from Emily's throat. Instantly, the hate and rage in Zack's face vanished, and it immediately hit him what he had just did. He'd killed. Those men were alive one moment, and now they weren't. Zack dropped the gun with shaking hands and began to weep for five minutes, the reality of the situation hitting him hard. He'd just murdered three men. His mother and father were both dead. He and Emily were alone. Orphaned.

* * *

Hours went by like seconds. Zack sat by the window inside a moving bus, Emily by his side. As the scenery flew past, he tried to erase from his memory the horrors that he had seen that night. He had taken Emily out of the house the moment he had regained composure, and had journeyed to the bus station five blocks away. Zack glanced down at the address he had taken from his mother's personal phone book. It was Nana Chang's address, his mother's old friend, the woman who used to baby-sit for him long ago. He didn't know how the old woman would react to seeing the two children of an old friend show up on her doorstep unannounced. But there was no other option for them to take now.

Zack's thoughts were interrupted by a small whimper next to him. Emily had apparently finally gotten over her shock, and was now scrunched up in her seat, her knees pulled up to her chest. There were tears and sobs pouring from the small girl. Biting his lower lip, Zack pulled his sister close in a comforting, brotherly hug.

"It's okay, Emily," he whispered. "You're safe now. I'm here for you. No matter what, I'll always be here to protect you. That's a promise."

* * *

**Present Day**

"I remember that night vividly. Shortly after midnight, it had begun to rain. I don't know exactly what woke me up, but right before I went back to sleep, I heard a faint knocking on the outside door. And there, standing out in the pouring rain, was Zack, little Emily half-asleep in his arms, both of them soaked to the bone, with Zack telling me that Zeke and Natalie...telling me they were…" Nana trailed off for a moment, wiping fresh tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry. But I knew Zeke and Natalie very well, and you'd be hard pressed to find a pair of finer people." It was a while before the six Bohemian friends found the ability to speak again.

"I...I know it doesn't matter," Mark spoke up. "But… what did Max do when he found out? Did you try to contact him?" Emily suddenly let out a furious growl.

"Nana sent Dad's parents the letter informing them the next day," she replied bitterly. "Came back a week later- unopened."

"Which is why I realized that Emily and Zack couldn't be placed under their grandparents' custody," Nana added. "If they wouldn't even show up for their own son's funeral, they surely wouldn't be about to raise their two grandchildren. So I volunteered to look after them.

"So that's why…" Collins looked over at Emily. "Your hemophobia. Is that when you…"

"Yes, I believe it is," Nana replied, answering for Emily. "Both Emily _and_ Zack suffered some major psychological damage from that awful night. Emily, as you're well aware, now suffers from hemophobia. Zack, on the other hand, developed hoplophobia: the fear of guns and firearms. Even after he became a cop, he refused, pointblank, to carry a gun. But Emily's hemophobia wasn't the only condition she developed. For the _longest_ time, she'd have these moments in which she'd suddenly zone out, and become almost catatonic. Not that I'm surprised, mind you. No one should have to see the things Emily saw, but at the age of four? It's a vastly impressionable age. Thankfully, those catatonic moments, which we now refer to as Emily's episodes, happened infrequently, and never lasted more then five minutes. So it was something we learned to deal with."

"Does she still have those episodes?" Maureen asked. "Because we've certainly never…."

"No, they stopped appearing a while ago, but we're not up to that part, yet," Emily stated. "I… I think I can take it from here, Nana."

"Are you sure?" Nana asked hesitantly. "After all, you're coming up to…"

"I know. But, if I don't try to tell this part myself, I might never fully recover from it. If you've got something poisonous inside you, you gotta bleed it out yourself. No one else can do it for you. Does that make sense?"

"Of course," Nana nodded sympathetically. "Can I do anything in the meantime?"

"Yeah. Call Officer Kurtz. 'Cause once I'm done, I'm going to start finding a way to get Penny back from the Rat Fangs." Once Nana stepped out of the room, Emily picked up the story. "Okay. So, Zack and me; we were orphans now, and living under Nana's care. Zack had always been the best brother anyone could have, but now, he took it into overdrive. He refused to let anyone hurt or threaten me. Because all we had was each other. Zack eventually met up with Officer Kurtz, when he and I were seventeen and ten, respectively. A few days after we met Uncle Kevin, Zack announced that, no matter what it took, he'd complete the police training and become a full-fledged cop. Since I'm not a mind reader, I'll never know exactly what made Zack reach his decision, although he told me it was because he'd made a promise to me, the only family he had, that he'd keep me safe. I guess he figured the best way to do that was to make sure the city was as safe as he could make it for me. And the best way to make sure of that was to become a cop." Emily suddenly stopped and placed her face in her hands. When Mark started to move forward to encourage her to go on, Emily held up a hand to stop him. "How could we have known," Emily whispered, looking back up. "How could we know that Zack's decision in ensuring a safe upbringing for me could ultimately lead to me loosing my brother as well?"

* * *

**AN:** It's coming- the truth behind Zack's death. Will it be a surprise, or do you already have assumptions forming?  
Hope you didn't mind that Zack doesn't swear when he avenges his parents' deaths. Realistically, I didn't think an eleven-year-old boy would have known many swear words, you know? I might be wrong, though. I was pretty sheltered growing up.  
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next one will be up as soon as I can get a chance to write it. (Schoolwork's a pain.) Until next time..


	17. The One to Survive

**AN:** This is a long chapter, to make up for the long wait. Sorry about that, but I wanted to make sure I did the situation covered in this chapter justice. There were a lot of elements I wanted to cover in this chapter, such as the close relationship Emily had shared with Zack, and then the moments leading up to Zack's death, which had to be done just right.  
Also, in this installment, there will be no returning to the present day, like there was in the previous flashback chapters, because I wanted readers to be left with the one moment at the end. On that note, read on, and enjoy.

* * *

**New York: 1981**

"Good. That's right. Keep your legs apart, just like that." Nana paused as she walked down the hall, and looked into the room her two charges were in. Zack was standing next to Emily, checking her stance, and slightly correcting the position of her arms. "Very good. Now, just like we practiced." Zack moved in front of Emily and extended an open hand, palm facing his sister. "Okay, now. Right there." Zack slapped his palm. "Right there, and mean it." Emily threw out a fist to punch her brother's open palm, but lost her balance in the process.

"Whoops!" Zack laughed in good nature as he helped Emily regain her balance. "Don't worry, Emily. I know you'll get the hang of it someday."

"Now, I _know_ you aren't trying to turn her into a ruffian thug, Zachary Goodhall," Nana quipped.

"Of course not, Nana. But this is one of the largest cities in the world, and not everyone in it is a nice person. What kind of man would I be if I didn't make sure my baby sister could handle herself in a pinch?"

"Zack, I'm not a baby, anymore!" Emily stated, frowning.

"I know you're not, Cricket," Zack replied, while ruffling Emily's hair. "But you'll always be my little sister." Emily grinned broadly. Cricket. When she had been six, Nana had told her and Zack some old Chinese stories, explaining the symbolism in many of them. And the cricket was the symbol of a fighting spirit. Since hearing that, Zack made Cricket his special nickname for his sister, because that was what they had to have after the deaths of their parents: fighting spirits.

"Now, how's about getting your Nikon, the one you got for Christmas?" Zack continued. "We can head down to the park for some new shots." Emily's face suddenly fell.

"You don't think I'm wasting my time with taking pictures?"

"Where'd you get such a silly idea like that?" Emily shrugged.

"Some kids at school…."

"Is that St. John boy giving you grief again? Emily, don't give him the satisfaction of knowing what he says bothers you. Of _course _you're not wasting your time! It's who you are. It's Mom's blood shining through you. She showed the world the beauty of nature through the art of poetry. You're showing it through the art of photography. Be proud of your talents. Now, get your camera, and we'll be off." Emily marched off and returned a moment later, carrying a Nikon FM.

"I'm ready!" She announced.

"Okay, then. Let's go." Zack grinned as he pulled on a New York Yankees cap.

* * *

In the park, Zack sat back on a bench by Temperance Fountain, watching in amusement as Emily took pictures of anything that caught her eye, occasionally from strange angles. Zack remembered one notable incident when she had decided to create a portfolio of photographs that were all taken from an opossum's point of view. He had to hand it to his sister, she certainly didn't lack innovation. Although, he also wondered if the world was ready for her unusual camerawork.

"Zack?" Emily called, looking over at the fountain. "Do you think they'll ever make a good waterproof camera? I suddenly got an idea of taking a shot from the viewpoint of a coin in a fountain."

"Even if they do make one like that," Zack laughed in amusement, "you'll probably be arrested for trying to climb into the fountain anyway. Your brother loves you, Emily, but even _I _can't help you out of a situation like that." Emily grinned and began to take a series of shots of a lone ant dragging a dead wasp across the pavement instead.

"Good afternoon, Zack, Miss Goodhall." Zack and Emily looked up to see Officer Kurtz approaching.

"Hi, Uncle Kevin!" Emily waved, taking a short break from her photography to visit with her brother's partner.

"Likewise, Kevin," Zack nodded. "What's happening at the station?"

"The chief notified me five minutes ago. He wants us to monitor the activity of a Jacob Gauthier tonight. We have reason to suspect that he's deeply involved with the counterfeit money that's been circulating through the city."

"Right," Zack replied seriously. I'll be down as soon as I drop Emily back home."

"Zack! Nana's birthday dinner's tonight!" Emily reminded. "You gotta be there! You promised!"

"I know, Emily," Zack sighed. "And I'll be there. But Officer Kurtz and I need to take care of this first. It won't be that late."

"How late?"

"About two hours."

"_One_ hour, Zack."

"Two hours."

"One!" Emily insisted sternly

"Two!" Zack half-groaned at his sister's stubbornness. The two siblings mock-glared at each other before, in a non-verbal agreement, engaged in a game of rock-paper-scissors. Zack laughed in good nature when Emily proudly 'smashed' his scissors with her rock. "All right, one hour," he gave in. "Until then, you enjoy yourself at the party, okay?"

"Yeah, right. It's Nana's party, so the majority of guests will smell like moth balls." Zack laughed and ruffled Emily's hair.

"Aw, I'm sorry Emily. But who knows? Maybe one of them will bring a grandchild who's your age, so you'll be able to suffer together."

* * *

That night, Emily sat alone in Nana's apartment, watching the group of elderly woman talking about nothing in particular. Zack's prediction of a kid her own age being at the party had proved to be false, so she was bored out of her skull. Glancing up at the clock, she saw that Zack would be due to arrive any moment, and decided to go out to meet him outside, taking her Nikon FM camera with her. It was a clear night, and Emily knew that if the street lamps didn't block them out, then she would have had a perfect view of the stars.

Emily looked up and down the street. There was no sign of Zack yet. However, something else caught her eye. There, at the beginning of an alleyway, between the brick wall and a garbage can, a spider was spinning a web. Emily crouched down and started to take a picture of the spider working. At that moment, a series of noises in the alley made her pause. Curiosity getting the better of her, Emily inched out from behind the trash can and peered into the alley. A lone man was in the middle of an augment with a group of other men.

"I don't care what you do! I'm not helping you find anyone!"

"There's no need to be worried about the welfare of them, buddy. We're not looking to shed blood. But we will if we have to."

"Why should I believe you? Do what you want with me. You won't get any help from me, even if I _knew_ who you were looking for." As soon as this was said, a glint of silver flashed, and the hapless individual was suddenly clutching at a fresh bleeding wound, complements of the switch blade, which continued to pierce his body relentlessly. Emily started to back away slowly but her conscience got in the way. That man was going to get killed. How could she turn her head the other way and let it happen? But what could she do? The men outnumbered her greatly. Should she stay or run? However, fate decided for her, and she backed up into the trashcan, knocking it over with a crash. Instantly, she was dragged into the alley.

"We got a pint-sized spy, boys!"

"Hey! She's got a photo camera! Little brat might have been taking pictures!" One of the men tore the Nikon FM from Emily's hands and threw in against the ally wall, where it broke in two.

"Wait just one moment," another man looked closely at Emily. "Those are Zeke's eyes. I'd know them anywhere."

"Dad…?" Emily spoke without thinking.

"Wait. _Dad_? This… you hear that? This is _Zeke's_ little brat!"

"Well, how about that? We didn't have to bother with _that _deadbeat. The whelp comes to us! Ethan should have been as lucky." Emily froze as she started to understand. These men were aligned with the same men who killed her parents almost ten years ago.

"What do you want?" Emily whispered.

"Not much. Just the formula, kid."

"I… I don't know anything about a formula." The man who had stabbed the group's victim earlier thrust the switchblade into the ally wall, just a few inches from Emily's head.

"I think you do."

"I'm telling you, I don't even know what formula you're talking about."

"Boys? How about jogging her memory a bit?" Emily's fear doubled once she realized that the other men were now all coming toward her, some holding switchblades of their own, others with broken bottles in their hands.

_'Come on, Emily, think! Zack was just talking about situations like this today!_' Seconds before the first man struck, Emily lashed out with a fist, hitting him square in the gut. She immediately turned to run, but someone grabbed her hair from behind, tugging hard. Emily could feel the pain-induced tears forming instantly as she was pinned to the ally wall, a switchblade dangerously close to her face. She squeezed her eyes closed, waiting for the inevitable, too scared to even scream.

"EMILY!" A voice shouted, echoing throughout the ally. Emily's eyes snapped open as she saw her captor being torn away from her by Zack, who delivered a savage punch to the man's face.

"Zack?" Emily gasped, hardly believing her brother's incredible timing.

"Kevin, get her out of here!" Zack ordered Officer Kurtz, who was standing nearby. Officer Kurtz immediately dragged Emily out of the alley.

"Miss Goodhall, get inside, now!" Officer Kurtz demanded.

"But Zack…"

"GO!" Emily quickly ran inside as Officer Kurtz radioed for backup before returning to aid Zack in the alley.

* * *

Emily watched from the window as some of the assailants were pushed into individual squad cars. Most of the men got away, but the police squadron had managed to round a few up, and was now taking them in for questioning. As she watched, Zack emerged from the alley, supporting the man who had been stabbed before the group of men had discovered Emily.

"Come on," Zack spoke to the badly injured man gently, helping him make his way to a nearly ambulance, paying no attention to the fact that the wounded man's blood was flowing down to Zack's own knife wound in his arm. "I know a doctor personally. He'll have you checked out in no time." Emily was so occupied with what was going on outside with her brother, who was also being brought down to the hospital to have his wounds checked out, she didn't notice Nana come up behind her.

"Well," Nana stated, trying to lighten the mood. "It certainly has been an eventful night."

"It's my fault," Emily whispered, as the ambulance Zack was in drove off. "I'm such an idiot. My stupid photography caused this whole mess."

"Emily, if you hadn't gone out when you did, that poor man might have died for sure," Nana tried to reason, but to no avail.

"I could have gotten Zack killed. I'll never take another stinking picture again."

* * *

Zack and Emily sat at the table in the kitchenette, hovering over a pair of handcuffs. It had been a few days since that terrible night in the alley. The men who had been brought in that night had told everything eventually. In an attempt to recover the formula Zeke had taken long ago, the drug ring had merged with a group of thugs and pickpockets, becoming a full-blown street gang in the process. A street gang known as the Rat Fang Gang. On that night, they had been looking for Zack and Emily, under the assumption that they had known about the formula. However, since many members of the Rat Fang Gang were still at large, and would most likely try to find Zack and Emily again, Officer Kurtz, and other cops in the NYPD had tried to convince the Goodhalls to move to a safer location. Zack had turned down the option, stating that he didn't get where he was today by running from opposition. As an option two, most of the force was out looking for the Rat Fang Gang nearly every day. Zack took up an active part in the search, and made sure Emily and Nana were kept up to speed on any new leads and information.

The man who had been seriously wounded in the skirmish had died from his injuries shortly after arriving at the hospital. Zack's wound, on the other hand, hadn't been that serious, and had only needed a few stitches. The siblings both had a mutual, unspoken agreement to not discuss the incident if they could help it. However, Zack was concerned with Emily's new attitude. Ever since that night, she had refused to even look at a camera, obviously blaming what had happened on her love of photography. He remained hopeful that this was only a phase, and that it would pass eventually.

"Okay, Cricket," Zack announced, pushing the handcuffs towards Emily. "Your turn." Emily picked up the bent bobby pin and began to try and pick the lock, succeeding after three minutes. "Good. That's a definite improvement," Zack complemented. "Pretty soon, you'll manage to pick the lock in less then a minute." Emily smiled widely at the praise.

"Hey, your stitches came out today, didn't they?" Emily asked, remembering. "How's your wound?" Zack rolled up his sleeve, revealing the knife wound had become the beginnings of a scar. Upon seeing the look of admiration appearing on Emily's face, Zack couldn't help but laugh.

"It's just a scar, Emily!"

"Yeah, right! 'Just a scar' my foot! That scar proves I've got the bravest brother ever!" At that moment, the phone rang, and Zack went over to answer it.

"Hello? … Oh, Dr. Jordan! ... The man who was killed in that fight with the Rat Fangs? Yes, I remember. Why?" Zack placed a hand to the mouthpiece, his brow slightly furrowed. "Hey, Emily. How about we take a break from this, and go out for lunch? Sound good?"

"Yeah!"

"Great. Get your coat." Once Emily was out of earshot, Zack returned his attention back to the phone "Okay, Dr. Jordan. Continue: what do you mean 'um'? I don't like hearing doctors and school principals saying 'um'."

* * *

Zack came down to join Emily a few moments later.

"Emily, do you mind if I take a quick stop to see Dr. Jordan before lunch?"

"No, of course not. What does he want?"

"Nothing worth mentioning." Zack replied hastily. He… just wants to ask me some questions, concerning that man who was killed…"

"Oh. You mean when _I _almost got _you _killed?"

"Don't go on blaming yourself for that, Emily," Zack instructed as they left their apartment. "I don't. It was the Rat Fangs who were at fault. Not you." Emily just shrugged.

* * *

**One Week Later**

Zack stood alone, gazing aimlessly into the flames crackling in the hearth. It had been pouring all day, and he had built the fire to keep warm. Tearing his eyes from the blaze, he glanced down at the sheet of paper in his hand, skimming over it once more, just to be sure he'd read it right.

Why wasn't this news affecting him as much as it should? This was among the most serious thing that could happen to a person. Yet, he felt oddly calm. His one and only thought was of Emily. What was going to happen to her, once she was on her own? Who'd be there to protect her, to care for her?

"Hey, Zack!" Emily, almost as if she had been called telepathically, poked her head into the room. Zack quickly hid the paper behind his back, thankful that she didn't seem to notice. "You okay, Brother? Nana said you've been in here for five whole minutes!"

"I'm fine," Zack grinned. "Emily, how's about getting your coat? There's a good-looking movie down at the cinema. We haven't been there in ages, have we?"

"No! We haven't!" Emily stated in excitement. "Hold up! I'll get an umbrella, too!" Zack chuckled to himself, and, before going off after his sister, gave the paper one last glance before tossing it into the fire, where the flames licked the edges until the test results was nothing more then a pile of ash.

_'She can't know.' _he thought to himself. _'There's no way I can tell her this. Not now.'_

* * *

**New York: 1982**

Emily was bustling around the kitchenette in the small apartment she and Zack shared. She was so busy, she didn't even realize Zack had walked in until she had turned around to place a plate on the table.

"Morning, Zack!" Emily greeted cheerfully. "Hurry and take a seat! Blueberry pancakes will be up in half a minute!"

"Thanks, Cricket," Zack smiled weakly. "I'm not really hungry this morning."

"Well, force yourself to eat!" Emily ordered, failing to notice how Zack was using the wall to hold himself up. "You gotta eat more. You've been getting _way_ too thin lately. It's not healthy. People will start thinking you got an eating disorder or something like that."

"Am I really getting thin?" Zack looked up in surprise. Emily, to Zack's relief, did not seem to notice the fear in his voice.

"Well, let me put it this way, Big Brother," Emily grinned broadly. "In another week, you might even be thinner then the school's flagpole!" Zack forced a chuckle at Emily's joke, wishing that his sister's statement wouldn't prove to be right, even though he knew that he might have very little say in the matter.

"Speaking of school, Emily," Zack replied, all too eager to change the subject," You better hurry, or you'll be late."

"Don't worry, Zack, I'm leaving now," Emily smiled, quickly kissing her brother's cheek. "You better enjoy those pancakes, though. I put my heart and soul into them! Then, maybe you should take a nap. You need rest."

"Why? I don't have to go into work, today. It's my day off"

"Look at you, Zack! Not only do you clearly need to eat more, but if your eyes got any droopier, we'll have to hold them open with scotch tape!"

"Well how about you, Emily?" Zack called as Emily headed for the door, grabbing her book bag. "How about taking care of yourself instead of concentrating solely on me? You haven't eaten, and there's your…"

"No problem: I already had my morning insulin shot, and I'll have Uncle Kevin stop at the corner bakery to grab a bagel on the way." After Zack had told Officer Kurtz about their personal history with the Rat Fangs, the older man had decided that, with the street gang on the loose, it would be wise if he escorted Emily to and from school, for safety's sake. "See you tonight!" With that, Emily was out the door. Smiling, Zack went to the cabinet to get a glass for orange juice. However, no sooner was the glass in his hand, that he was seized by a fresh wave of racking coughs. Zack bent over the kitchen sink, trying to regain composure, gasping for breath once the coughs had subsided. He was thankful Emily had left already. If she hadn't, she would have realized that something truly was wrong. Zack couldn't let that happen. It was not her job to look after him. He was the older brother. He was the one who looked after her, not the other way around. The weakening young man looked up at the mirror hanging above the sink, taking in his appearance. His cheeks had lost their color sometime ago, and his face looked terribly shrunken in. Emily was right. He was getting much too thin, and he looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

"Man, Zack," he hissed at himself, filling his glass with water and taking a long sip. "You're not gonna be able to hide this from her much longer."

* * *

Emily cheerfully talked with Officer Kurtz as the policeman drove her home in his squad car.

"So Emily," Officer Kurtz began. "Zack told me you were scheduled to have a test in health class today. How'd you like it?"

"Looooved it!" Emily replied, drawing out her words while grinning widely. "Especially question ten: List the symptoms of someone with Diabetes Mellitus. Absolutely perfect."

"Oh, do you think you remembered them all?" Officer Kurtz gasped in mock concern.

"I think I managed," Emily shrugged before the two laughed at their joke. "Who'd have thought that living with a disorder could actually be useful? What a concept! Hey, Nana wants to know!" Emily changed the subject. "You and your wife, Beverly, are stopping by next Friday for my birthday dinner, right? I'm turning fourteen this year, you know."

"No worries! That's a tradition we never miss. By the way. I have another hour before I need to start my shift. Want to stop at the electronics store to look at the cameras? You never replaced your old one."

"Thanks, Uncle Kevin, but I gotta check up on Zack," Emily replied quickly. "He's been really tired lately. I think he's getting stressed about that street gang, the Rat Fangs, again. And you know Zack, once he gets his mind set on something, almost nothing can distract him." The cop shook his head sadly. Emily apparently still hadn't forgiven herself for what happened a year ago, when her photography had led her into danger.

"Okay, see you later, then. Bye!" Officer Kurtz stopped in front of the Goodhall's apartment to drop Emily off, not driving off until she was indoors.

"Hey, Zack, I'm home!" Emily called, walking through the door. Her smile suddenly disappeared at the sight waiting for her. Zack was sprawled out on the floor, unmoving. Broken glass and orange juice stained the kitchen tiles next to him. "ZACK?" Emily dropped her things on a nearby stool and hurried over to her brother's body. "Zack, this isn't funny!"

* * *

Nana stood outside the hospital room, looking in on Emily, who was sitting rigidly next to Zack's bed, her eyes never leaving her brother. Zack was still unconscious, and with the heart monitors and IV bags he was hooked up to, the young man was not looking very good. Officer Kurtz was also in the room, but giving Emily a respectful distance.

"Are you quite sure your tests were right?" Nana asked, turning to Dr. Jordan, who she had been speaking with privately.

"We did the test twice, to make sure, but there's definitely no question of it now," Dr. Jordan replied. "The extreme weight and energy loss, shortness of breath, the high fever, and our recent tests show that Mr. Goodhall has also been experiencing severe diarrhea. I can tell you one thing, Mrs. Chang. He's not the first young man we've had with this condition, and I have a feeling he won't be the last." Nana cast a dark look into the room, where Emily was still sitting by Zack's side. She had not moved an inch.

* * *

Days passed. Zack's condition got worse each day. Emily only left Zack's room when her brother would insist she attend school, telling her that he'd rest easier knowing she wasn't risking her attendance and grades. However, Emily would head straight to the hospital room immediately after school and do the homework there. When Friday came around, Emily stopped by after school, as always, with Nana and Officer Kurtz accompanying her.

"Hi, Zack!" Emily greeted cheerfully. "Did the doctors say when you're gonna be allowed to come home?" Nana looked at Zack sharply. The expression on his face confirmed her suspicions. Zack had never told Emily how serious the situation was.

"Emily," Nana began. "I don't think you…"

"Nana," Zack shook his head slowly. The elderly woman stopped immediately. Changing the subject, Zack looked up Officer Kurtz. "Kevin, how are you doing tracking down the Rat Fangs?"

"We're… not so good, Zack." Officer Kurtz replied.

"Forget about it. You'll get them, sooner or later." Zack smiled at his partner confidently. "So, Emily." Zack turned to his sister. "Tell me. I lost track of the days. Today's your birthday, isn't it?" Zack gestured to the drawer on the bedside table. Emily opened it to reveal two brightly wrapped presents. "I asked Officer Kurtz and his wife, Beverly, to pick them up for you." Emily opened her birthday presents in silence. The first was a silver heart locket, which held a picture of her and Zack, taken the year before. The second gift made Emily's face fall slightly. It was a new Nikon camera. "The Nikon FM2," Zack announced. "Latest model. To replace the one that broke last year. It's time you stopped punishing yourself for what happened on that night, when the Rat Fangs almost got us again. Don't turn your back on photography, Cricket. It's a part of who you are."

"What happened to only one present a year?" Emily quipped. "Now I gotta get you two presents for your birthday." Zack shook his head sadly.

"I wanted to get you twice as much then I usually do for _this _birthday," Zack explained. "They're probably the last things I'll be able to get for you, so they really had to count."

"Aw, what are you talking about, Zack?" Emily sighed, as if talking to a three-year-old with a head cold, who was acting like they were at death's door. "You'll get better soon. It's like the ear infection I had when I was eleven. The medicine they gave me made me better. They'll get medicine for you, too."

"Emily," Zack took a rattling breath. "I'm sorry I kept this from you for so long. I've known for about a year now. I've never told you, because I didn't want you to worry. What I've got; there's no cure, or treatments. Not yet, anyway. I'm not going to get better. I can only get worse. Ask Dr. Jordan to tell you about it before you leave today."

"Zack, I… I don't understand." Emily, without understanding why, felt tears forming in her eyes. Nana, sensing that Zack wanted a private moment with Emily, stepped into the doorway, motioning for Officer Kurtz to join her. The falling young man took his sister's hand, and his eyes began to close.

"Listen closely, Emily. Whatever you do, don't stop taking pictures, and listen to Nana. Officer Kurtz has also agreed to check up on you for me, from time to time. Don't forget what I taught you, Cricket. Live on. Live on for me, and for Mom and Dad. All of us will always love you. Whatever happens, live strong, move forward, walk on your own. You've… got good strong legs, Emily. Get up and use them."

* * *

From the doorway, Nana found she could not watch anymore, and turned her head, just so she wouldn't have to see Zack's eyes close for the final time, or his grip on Emily's hand go limp as the heart monitor flat-lined.

* * *

Emily stood alone in front of Zack's grave, her brother's Yankees cap clutched in her hand. The service had ended about ten minutes ago, but she had not moved from the spot. She hardly even noticed it when Nana walked up behind her.

"Emily? I know there's nothing I can say to make things better for you," she began. "You've not only lost your parents, but now your brother as well. It is a terrible loss. It's cruel that you had to deal with things like this at your age. But you have to remember, it's not always going to hurt. You will always miss him, but the pain you're feeling now does go away. You must never forget that." Emily, instead of replying, glanced up at the cloudy sky.

"It's… going rain today," Emily stated, in a mater-of-fact tone.

"Yes. I suppose it is," Nana nodded. With a final glance at Zack's tombstone, Emily turned and walked off with Nana, pulling Zack's Yankees cap onto her head as she went.


	18. Love Heals

**AN: **And here it is: the final flashback chapter.  
I'd like to apologize to the people who didn't get what Zack died from. I purposely didn't say, because, as Emily explains at the start of this chapter, it didn't receive the name it has now until sometime in 1982, a year after Zack is infected. Heck, it was only just discovered in 1981, so natually, at the time, no one knew much about it. However, this chapter will fill in the blanks. So, enjoy.

* * *

**Present Day:**

Emily, who had been focusing her eyes on the floor the entire time, paused in her story to glance up at her friends, to see they were all staring, mouths agape.

"They called it GRID," Emily sighed. "It wasn't until later that year that the U.S. Center for Disease Control and Prevention finally decided on a more acceptable and accurate name for the virus that cost Zack his life. I… I suppose you can guess what name they decided on."

"So…" Collins begin quietly. "That means that the man your brother helped, the one who died from the stab wounds; he was…"

"HIV positive? That's what Dr. Jordan's tests during the autopsy revealed. The virus had only recently been discovered back then. Many people didn't even know it existed. When Zack tried to help him to an ambulance, some of his… contaminated blood must have gotten into my brother's wound, and…" Emily trailed off, trying to fight back fresh tears. "I blamed myself for a whole year. After all, if it wasn't for me, Zack would never have had to fight the Rat Fang members to save me, and he never would have been injured from the switchblade, and he never would have been infected with the virus. I called it 'The Devil's Virus' for a long time after Zack died."

"But..." Roger spoke up, "what about treatments? There was…"

"My brother died in 1982," Emily cut him off. "AZT wasn't approved until 1986. Four years too late."

"Oh, Emily," Joanne sighed sympathetically. "Why didn't you tell us that was how he died? You knew we would have understood."

"I know. It's just that… many people are still treating people who… get AIDS… like lepers, and say they deserve what they get. I'm sure you all understand that. Some of you," Emily paused and cast a nervous glance at Roger, Mimi, and Collins, as if wondering if she was about to tread on dangerous ground, "some of you have to deal with that every day. My brother, Zack, was a good person and a wonderful brother. I… didn't want him to be remembered that way. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Roger nodded eventually. "I guess it does."

"Now I get it," Maureen stated, trying to lighten the mood. "Your Yankees cap. It belonged to your brother. So _that's _why we never see you without it."

"As a tribute to his life," Emily confirmed, slightly pushing the bill back so it wouldn't hinder her vision.

"So, what happened then?" Mark asked. "I mean, forgive me if I sound rude or something, but you now had lost your whole family, and…"

"Yes, Mark. I did go through some emotional scarring of my own for a time. But that was when I discovered that sometimes, the prayers of your heart can often be granted in unexpected ways, and unexpected forms."

* * *

**New York: 1984**

"Hello?" Nana answered the phone on the second ring.

"Good afternoon, Nana," Officer Kurtz's voice greeted.

"Oh! Good afternoon to you, too, Officer Kurtz. How can I help you?"

"I'm calling to leave a message for Emily. Well, I suppose it would concern you as well."

"Is it good or bad?"

"It's about the Rat Fangs."

"Then it's bad."

"Yes, but I promised Zack to keep her posted on any information that the NYPD receives."

"I understand. What's the message?"

"Do you know Miss Hollingsworth?"

"Oh dear. That poor woman who worked at the New York Public Library? Of course I know her. The number of times she helped Emily gather information for school research papers…."

"You do know she's been missing for quite some time now, don't you?"

"Yes, I did know that. Her and twelve other women. The news said last night that you found the bodies of eight of them. Was that right?"

"It was. But that's not really why I'm calling. I'm calling about Miss Hollingsworth. We found her."

"You found her? Is she okay?"

"She's alive, if that's what you mean."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"Nana, I'm calling you because of the conditions in which we found her. Someone on the shift before mine brought in a suspicious man for questioning, and he revealed the location of where the Rat Fangs were hiding out- in the basement of a building disguised as a restaurant."

"Oh my…" Nana quickly sank into a chair. "Did you finally get them?"

"Only a handful. The majority escaped, again. We're attempting to make the members we did catch reveal information on the location of the remaining missing women. You see, the eight bodies we found were all killed in a similar manner, so it's a safe bet that they're all connected."

"And you suspect the Rat Fangs?"

"Yes, because not only do we have confessions from the majority of them, but when we raided their hideout, we found Miss Hollingsworth."

"Thank heavens you found _one _of those poor women alive."

"Yes, but we found no trace of any of the other missing women. This could be a good or bad sign."

"Thank you for the information, Officer Kurtz. I'll tell Emily immediately."

"Nana, wait! There's more. Miss Hollingsworth, she's, well, she's alive, but not exactly well."

"What do you mean?"

"When we found her, Nana, the poor woman was chained inside a closet. There are multiple scars and bruises on her wrists and ankles, and…"

"And?"

"Nana, she's… seven months pregnant."

"What?"

"Dr. Jordan checked her out, and… there are multiple traces of semen in her. Tests revealed that… the semen was from well over ten different men." Nana's breath got caught in her throat instantly. "Nana, do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"Y…yes. I understand. Is… is she holding up…"

"She apparently has lost her voice. I don't blame the poor woman. I can only imagine the horrors she's been through. Nana, I'm calling to ask you if you'd be willing to let her come live with you for a bit. After all, Miss Hollingsworth will truly need some caring company after her ordeals, and… it might not be a good idea if any _male _tried to provide that, given the situation."

"Yes, of course," Nana agreed in understanding. "I'll be happy to let her stay with us. She will be safe here."

"Thank you Nana. I'll have someone bring her down straight away. Right now, I have to get back to the interrogations."

"Thank you, Officer Kurtz. Good luck." Nana hung up the phone, letting out a long, weary sigh.

"What did Uncle Kevin want?" Nana jumped slightly, suddenly realizing that Emily had been standing in the doorway for the past five minutes. The old woman took a moment to study Emily. Zack's death truly had left serious emotional scars on the teen girl. For starters, she was very rarely seen without Zack's old Yankees cap shoved onto her head, with the bill usually pulled down as far as it would go, as if she was trying to hide beneath it. To top it off, her catatonic episodes had gotten worse, now appearing at least twice a day. But the part that made Nana the most concerned was Emily's stance on photography. The Nikon FM2 that Zack had given her had never been touched and was shoved back on a shelf, under one and a half years worth of dust.

As Nana prepared to covey Officer Kurtz's news, she noticed that some of Emily's frizzy hair had been styled in a way to cover her left eye.

"Emily, what's wrong with your eye?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?" Shaking her head, Nana brushed the hair aside, revealing a fresh bruise forming on Emily's eye, accompanied by a small bleeding cut within her eyebrow.  
"Oh, Emily. Not again," Nana sighed wearily, moving to the sink to dampen a clean dish towel to use on Emily's face. "What was it this time? No, don't tell me: it was that St. John boy again, wasn't it?"

"So what if it was?"

"Emily, what did he say this time to set you off?"

"Nothing, Nana."

"Don't give me that," Nana instructed, dabbing the wet towel to Emily's cut, ignoring her winces of pain. "You would not have just up and fought with him out of nowhere. That's not you. You can trust me, Emily. What did he say?" After a short pause, Emily relented.

"We… the teacher in health class told us some news today. Some scientist, he found out what causes… what Zack died off. It's some kind of retrovirus."

"Go on," Nana urged gently.

"We had a small discussion on the disease, and after school, St. John and his friends were walking behind me. They were talking… very loudly, about how they should… just round up everyone with the virus, and ship them off to an isolated location, like what they did with people during the Black Plague. How… anyone who's… stupid and brain-dead enough to get it… deserves what they… deserves to…"

"Oh, dear," Nana sighed. There was no need for Emily to continue to know what happened next. The one thing that could set Emily off was someone insulting her family in any way. "Well, Emily, as your unofficial guardian, I can't excuse that course of action. But, as your unofficial grandmother, who knew Zack very well, I have to say, 'good show'. It's rather funny that you learned about that today, though. I've just been thinking about revamping this old quilt shop into a home for young children who are born with that condition. There has been a shocking increase of sick babies lately, after all. Dr. Jordan told me yesterday. Of course, the doors will also be open to other unfortunate children, such as the ones born to drug addicts."

"So, what did Officer Kurtz want?" Emily asked again, showing no sign that she had heard Nana's plan. Nana began to tell her everything about them finding Miss Hollingsworth, and how she was going to stay with them for some time, not failing to notice how Emily stiffened when the Rat Fangs were mentioned. As soon as Nana's explanation was done, the elderly woman decided to try to find a more cheerful topic.

"Emily? I was reading the paper today. There's a special exhibit down at the museum, all about photography. Maybe we could…."

"No," Emily hissed. "For the millionth time, Nana. I'm not interested in photography."

"I just think it's a shame to give up on your passions. You always loved photography, and…"

"Nana, don't you get it! My stupid photography was the reason my brother died! Because of me, and my dumb camera, Zack got infected with that… virus. He'd still be alive now if I…" Emily suddenly stopped and moved to the door. "I'm going for a walk," she announced. "I'll be back in time for supper."

* * *

Emily walked alone aimlessly, not really paying attention to where she was going. After what seemed like an eternity, she found herself outside Marble Cemetery. Hesitating for only a moment, Emily pushed open the gates and moved along through the rows of cold stone markers, contemplating the irony of the situation. No matter what someone did, no matter how loved or well-known someone was, in the end, their life would only be represented by a cold slab of stone. Before long, Emily fond herself kneeling in front of Zack's gravestone. Had it really been over a year since…?

"Hey, Zack," Emily chocked. "I wish I had the same way with words as Mom and Dad did. I really don't know what to say in situations like this. But I know you'll be listening. You always listened to me.

"Officer Kurtz came pretty close to getting the Rat Fangs, but many of them got away. The good news is, we found their hideout, so this might mean they'd be busy looking for a new den, and they won't have much time to continue everything they've been doing lately. But, you probably know that, don't you?

"Nana's okay, but… she's trying to make me go back to photography, and act like nothing's changed. But I can't pretend. Because things have changed. It's never gonna be the same, is it? I want things to go back to the way they were before. Believe me, I'd give anything to make that possible, to wake up each day, knowing you're going to be waiting in the kitchen before heading off to work, just to wish me a good day at school, or going down to the park for picnics on weekends when the weather's good, just because we can. But I can't pretend. Because pretending things are the same just makes remembering that things will never be the same again... it makes it hurt more. You're not going to be there anymore. You're not going to be waiting up for me, or being there to talk with me, or picking me up after school to just spend the rest of the day together, or…

"YOU PROMISED ME! YOU PROMISED YOU'D ALWAYS BE THERE TO PROTECT ME! You promised me. You broke your promise, Zack. And it's my fault. You'd still be alive if it wasn't for me. It's my fault." Tears were now starting to flow from Emily's eyes. "Why'd you have to go away? I need you, Big Brother. I…I can't do this on my own!"

* * *

The next few months flew by like seconds. Miss Hollingsworth, despite living with Nana and Emily, who both tried to make her feel safe, still did not show any improvement. She never spoke, or uttered a sound. The only true signs of life came from the fact that she would still eat, and would occasionally rub her round belly. Things continued the way they were, up until one night at dinner.

"Heading up to my room," Emily announced after finishing her meal. But before leaving the room, she made another attempt at getting through to Miss Hollingsworth.

"You know, the weather's supposed to be nice tomorrow. Want to come to the park with me for hot dogs? My treat." Miss Hollingsworth simply stared blankly. "O-kay. Guess that's a 'no' then, huh?" Again, no response, and Emily gave up and left.

"Forgive me for saying so, Miss Hollingsworth," Nana began. "But you should know that, if you can only trust one person, it would be Emily. She knows somewhat how you might feel, like you need to just give up. Her brother died almost two years ago, but she's still hasn't fully recovered from it. You remember how much she used to love photography, but she has not touched a camera in ages. So, perhaps you can help one another heal." Miss Hollingsworth blinked, and left the table, as silent as ever.

* * *

That night, Emily was shaken awake by Nana.

"Emily, get up, now!"

"Hmm." Emily blinked sleepily. "Nana? What is it?"

"Just hurry and get downstairs! I need your help!" Emily, confused by Nana's urgency, crawled out of bed and followed the old woman downstairs, where she immediately saw Miss Hollingsworth on the couch, sweat covering her entire face, which was scrunched up in pain. "Hurry, Emily! She's in labor!"

"The baby's coming? Like, right now?"

"Yes. Dr. Jordan's on his way, but he had to take a detour. Stupid road construction. He might not make it time, so it's up to us."

"Nana, what do I know about things like this?"

"Don't worry; I'll handle the hard part. I delivered your brother, after all. Now, here," Nana handed Emily a stainless steel cooking bowl filled with water and a clean washcloth. "You just have to wipe off her sweat, and make the poor woman comfortable. I'll take care of the rest."

The labor continued for over an hour. Nana kept hurrying into the kitchen to get more hot water for the washbasin that was at the ready, which always made Emily panic, for fear of what would happen if the baby came out while she was gone. In order to distract her in those moments, she tried to talk to Miss Hollingsworth.

"Okay, I… I guess you're doing okay. I hope so, at least. You'll be okay, though. My mom… she did this too, you know. Twice in fact." Miss Hollingsworth opened her mouth in a silent scream.

"Okay, then!" Nana announced finally. I think I can see the head, now. It will be over soon, Miss Hollingsworth. Just a few more pushes, and that'll be it!" Emily turned her head, trying to fight a fainting spell when she saw the blood pouring out, only looking back when the sound of a baby cry filled the room. The teenage girl watched in amazement as Nana placed a newborn baby girl into the washbasin to clean her up.

"Whoa. She's so tiny. Almost the size of a penny," Emily breathed in wonder. "Nana, was… was I that small?"

"More or less," Nana replied, smiling. Emily chuckled softly before looking back at Miss Hollingsworth. However, she instantly knew something was wrong. The new mother's eyes were now glassy and vacant. Emily held a hand close to Miss Hollingsworth's mouth, and felt no breath.

"Nana?" Emily's voice shook. Nana moved over to examine Miss Hollingsworth, checking for a pulse. After a brief hesitation, Nana sighed heavily.

"She gave birth to that baby. That was all she had been holding on for. Now that it's done, she had no reason to go on." With that, Nana slowly pulled Miss Hollingsworth's eyelids down, to forever cover the now-sightless eyes.

* * *

"Emily!" Nana shouted up the stairs, the infant Penny wailing in her arms. It was shortly past one in the morning, and Penny had woken up during the night again, crying to be fed. "Emily, will you get out here? I need your help down here."

"It's been three days; doesn't that kid ever stop crying?" Emily grumbled between yawns as she shuffled downstairs, holding a quilt around her tightly, her eyelids drooping.

"She's a baby, Emily. Crying is the only thing babies know how to do," Nana responded, as she walked over. "Poor dear. She needs her mother. The one thing she wants, we cannot give. Here, Emily. You take her for a moment."

"What, me!?" Emily suddenly snapped awake completely. "Nana, _no_! I can't! I don't know anything about babies!"

"Don't be silly, Emily. I just want you to hold her for a moment, so I can get a bottle ready."

"Bu... but Nana, I…" Nana, without listening, held Penny out. Realizing that she was fighting a loosing battle, Emily gave in and took the baby, holding the infant awkwardly as Nana moved to the sink. A second later, they suddenly noticed how quiet things had gotten. Emily looked down at Penny in surprise. The little baby, who had stopped crying almost instantly, was looking back at Emily, as if she was appraising the teenage girl. Then, to Emily and Nana's surprise, little Penny started to laugh.

"Well, I'll be," Nana looked on in wonder. "Babies that young shouldn't know _how _to laugh. I do believe that little one's taken a shine to you, Emily." Emily took a moment to think about this, and then looked back at Penny, who was smiling up at her. After a moment's hesitation, Emily returned the smile.

* * *

Spring had come again to the city. Inside the park, Nana was currently resting her feet and eyes, sitting on the edge of a fountain.

"Thinking about the good old days, Nana?" The old woman looked over to see Officer Kurtz standing at her side.

"Officer Kurtz! Any luck finding the rest of the Rat Fang Gang?" Nana asked, as the policeman walked up.

"No, not yet. But we're not going to stop looking. At the moment, they appear to be lying low for a while. I just hope we can find them soon, before someone else ends up like Miss Hollingsworth." Officer Kurtz took a seat next to Nana on the fountain's edge. "By the way, that reminds me. Where's the baby? You said you named her Penny, but that's all I heard. So, is she doing okay?"

"See for yourself," Nana gestured over to a park bench nearby, where Emily was bottle feeding the infant Penny with the most genuine smile she ever had on her face.

"Well, look at that," Officer Kurtz chuckled. "Miss Goodhall's looking like a seasoned mother there."

"Lately," Nana nodded, "she can't last an hour without taking up the baby-care duties, from feeding, to changing, and everything in between. She's become most attentive to that little baby. It comforts her, I think. Reminds her of Zack."

"Understandable," Officer Kurtz agreed. "After all, Zack had always been the one to take care of Emily. I suppose it's safe to assume Miss Goodhall's attempting to keep him alive by doing the same for someone else, by completing the cycle."

"Mmm," Nana paused before continuing. "Meanwhile, Emily's catatonic episodes have started to disappear. A few weeks ago, they were coming along at least twice a day. But now, they've practically disappeared altogether."

"Well, that's something I haven't heard of," Officer Kurtz looked on in wonder at Emily and Penny. "Therapy dogs and cats, maybe. But therapy babies? That's definitely a new one on me." Nana and Officer Kurtz continued to sit, this time in silence, watching Emily and Penny as the newborn finished eating and drifted off to sleep as Emily gently bounced the infant in her arms.

"Yeah, that's right, Penny," Emily whispered. "You can sleep, without any worries. Because I'll be here to take care off you when you wake up. No matter what, I'll always be here to protect you. That's a promise."

* * *

The very next day, Emily sat across from Nana at the kitchenette table inside Nana's residence, with Officer Kurtz and his wife, Beverly, who was holding a sleeping Penny, standing nearby.

"I want in," Emily announced suddenly.

"What did you say, Emily?" Nana looked at the young girl in surprise.

"I want in," Emily repeated. "You were talking about turning this old place into a home for young children; children who have HIV and drug addictions, remember? If it's true, I want to help you look after them all." After a pause, Nana responded.

"Emily, it… it won't bring him back."

"I know. But that's why I've got to do this."

"But Emily," Beverly imputed. "What about your plans for going on to college after high school? You won't have time for that if you're here caring for children."

"Sometimes, priorities change," Emily stated. "Please, Nana! I need you to let me do this. It's what Zack wants me to do." This made everyone give Emily looks of shock. "I know that probably sounds crazy," Emily admitted. "And maybe it is. But I've just got a strong feeling, deep in my gut, that this what Zack would have wanted me to do. He'd want me to help take care of those children, the ones who no one else would be willing to look after because of some unfortunate circumstance surrounding their birth. They're condemned to be outcasts, because of the personal choices their parents made. I know what that's like. You all know how many of my classmates treat me because of what my mom and dad did to bring in enough money to properly care for me. When you think about it, these children, they _are_ me. This is _exactly _what Zack would want me to do. I can't explain it. I just know."

"Emily…" Beverly began softly.

"Will you let me?" Emily looked up at Nana, who studied Emily's fiercely determined expression. It was at this moment, that Nana was suddenly taken aback by how much Emily looked like her mother. The resemblance was always apparent, but it was even more striking now. Nana finally sighed.

"Could never say 'no' to that face," she announced, relenting.

* * *

As night fell, Nana went to check up on Penny. However, the baby was not in her crib. Nana started to panic, but as she moved back into the hall to search the entire building for the missing infant, she heard a strangely familiar clicking sound, coming from behind a door that was open a crack. Slowly, the elderly woman peered into the room, and held back a gasp. Emily was standing by the window, with little Penny strapped to her in a baby carrier. In Emily's hands was the Nikon FM2, the one Zack had given her the day he had died. At the current time, Emily was using the camera to take pictures of passing cars and people down in the street, pausing every now and then to smile down at Penny, and ruffle the small patch of strawberry blond hair that was starting to grow on the infant's head. The sight of Emily once again taking photographs brought tears of joy to Nana's aged eyes. The healing had finally begun.

* * *

**AN: **And that brings us up to date, yes? The full back story on the Rat Fangs, why they're after Emily, the origin of The Center, Penny's birth, and how baby Penny helped Emily get over her guilt.  
Also, if anyone is unsure of exactly what happened to Miss Hollingsworth, Penny's birth mother, when she was held captive in the Rat Fang's hideout, let me know, even though I'd hate to spell it out for you.  
So, until next time...


	19. Zack's Final Gift

**AN: **Yes, I know this chapter is super-mondo short. You don't have to tell me. I'll make it up to you by posting the next chapter VERY soon: when I complete the opening scene. I'd do so now, but I need sleep. It's almost 1:30 in the morning, and I tend to get crabby when I don't get enough sleep. Just ask anyone who knows me personally...

* * *

"So, it all goes back to Penny," Emily concluded. "I just know that Zack was the one who sent her, my brother's final gift to me. That's why I can't abandon her to the Rat Fangs. It would be a poor way to repay her for everything she did for me, by just existing. She helped me get past my guilt, and got me to go back to photography. And she's why I no longer have my episodes." Emily suddenly chuckled. "I kind of feel bad for Nana, considering how much she spent on therapy, and how that all went to waste after Penny entered the picture."

"You went to therapy?" Maureen laughed.

"Care to look at Emily's extensive therapy bills?" Nana replied, returning to the room. "Yes, Emily went through therapy when her episodes started getting worse, but nothing seemed to help. And that little baby succeeded where Freud, Rutter, Wolff, and Kübler-Ross failed. So, you see, it's not just a case of Penny needing Emily. Emily needs that little girl just as much."

"Is Officer Kurtz on his way, Nana?" Emily questioned.

"He'll be here in five minutes."

* * *

Officer Kurtz listened intently to the story of Penny's adoption, and how Mimi had figured out that the man who had adopted the child was actually part of the Rat Fangs. When they were finished, he sighed heavily.

"If only we'd known sooner."

"Coulda, shoulda, woulda," Emily waved away remorse.

"She's got a point," Mark pointed out. "Only thing that matters now is finding Penny before they can do anything to her."

"There's just one problem. We've been trying to find the Rat Fangs for years, but with no luck," Officer Kurtz replied. "And since they're no longer using the same hideout they had ten years ago, they must have found a new one, which is no doubt where they've taken Penny. There's just no way we can possibly find this new hideout in time." Officer Kurtz glanced over at Emily apologetically. "I'm sorry, Miss Goodhall. But it's not looking very good for Penny. We have no leads, and we don't know anyone who'd know where the Rat Fangs might be hiding." Mimi, on hearing this, bit her lower lip and began to fidget nervously. At that moment, she felt a hand squeeze her shoulder gently. Looking up, she saw Roger returning her gaze. The two lovers shared a nonverbal conversation, both agreeing simultaneously that it was the only option open.

"We do," Roger confessed softly. "We know someone who'd know where they are."


	20. A Dancer's Courage, A Mother's Love

**AN: **Told you this chapter would be up soon, didn't I?  
Before I begin, I want to give a shout-out to AlyssaLLBlack13 for noticing the Harry Potter reference. Many stories I write contain references to other movies and shows. If you look closely, you'll also notice I have references to Full Metal Alchemist, Roger and Hammersteins' Cinderella, Rush Hour, It Takes Two, and The Wedding Planner. (Good movies)

* * *

The alleyway was as dark as sin. Shadows cast their sinister light over everything. Mimi hugged her leopard-skin-patterned coat closer to her, her eyes darting around nervously, toying with the idea of backing down. No. She couldn't turn back now. This was something she had to do, and she knew it.

A small noise behind her made her jump slightly. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with the one person she never had intended to see again.

"Well, look who's back!" the Man grinned in his usual greasy manner. "What's the matter, Marquez? Lover Boy ran off on you again?"

"Save the speech," Mimi spat. "You got the goods?"

"Anything for my favorite customer," the Man replied, holding out the powder-filled baggie. At that moment, the entire alleyway was illuminated by flashing lights, as three or four squad cars appeared in the street. The look of triumph on Mimi's face confirmed The Man's suspicions. She had set him up. "Filthy bit-h!" The Man raised a hand to strike her, but someone grabbed him from behind and shoved him into the brick wall hard.

"If you _ever_ speak to her like that again, or even _think _about hurting her," Roger growled into his ear, "I'll fu-king castrate you." Roger kept The Man pinned until a group of cops had cuffed him and escorted the drug dealer into one of the squad cars, the Man glaring at Roger in pure hatred the whole time. As the squad cars drove off, Roger led Mimi out of the alleyway, rubbing her arms comfortingly. "You did great, baby," he whispered, kissing her temple softly.

"Are you quite sure he's the one to tell us what we need to know, Mr. Davis?" Officer Kurtz, who had been waiting outside the alley, turned to the musician. Roger nodded in response.

"Yes. The Rat Fangs originated from a drug ring after all. And they're looking for the formula for a drug, one Emily's dad stole from them. Who else would know where they were hiding, but another drug dealer?"

* * *

The Bohemians all stood silently, watching the interrogation behind the two-way mirror. Officer Kurtz was trying to convince The Man to talk, but to no avail.

"If it's retaliation from the Rat Fangs you're worried about," Officer Kurtz announced, "then I can assure you we will do what we can do offer you protection, even placing you into the witness relocation program." The Man did not reply, and continued to scowl.

"Can't they just force him to talk?" Maureen whined.

"He's exercising the right to the Fifth," Joanne replied. "He doesn't have to talk if he doesn't want to."

"But he has to talk!" Maureen went on. "Penny might already be…"

"MAUREEN!" Mark cried, instinctively placing a hand on Emily's shoulder, who was now looking at the drama queen with a mixed expression of fear and frustration.

"Oh! Emily, don't worry!" Maureen quickly tried to ease her friend's tangible anxiety. "I'm sure Penny's gonna be okay. Sure it's been quite a few hours and all, so there's no telling what they might have already done, but there is still a chance Penny's not…."

That did it. Emily let out a grunt and half-sprinted out of the room. "Hey, Emily, wait!" Mark called after the photographer to no avail. Seconds later, she appeared in the interrogation room.

"Miss Goodhall, you know you don't belong in here!" Officer Kurtz reprimanded. Emily, however, ignored him, and walked right up to the Man, pulling out a photograph of Penny and showing to him.

"Please!" she begged. "This girl. That's all I want. She could die if you don't help us now."

"He's not going to listen to you, Miss…" Officer Kurtz began, but Emily cut him off.

"Officer Kurtz, we're running out of time, and your way isn't working very well," she shot out before turning back to the Man, who continued to study the young girl appraisingly. "Please!" Emily continued to plead. "She's my girl. I'd give anything to get her back. You don't even have to say anything, if you're worried about the Rat Fangs coming after you for betraying their location." Emily reached into her pocket and took out a map of Manhattan, spreading it out on the table. "You can just point. That way, you're not even saying where they are, so you technically wouldn't be ratting out. You can just point to where they are, and that'll be enough. Please. I don't care about them. I don't even care about you. I just want the little girl."

* * *

From behind the two-way mirror, the others watched as Emily pleaded with the Man to help as the drug dealer continued to stare at Emily, his face vacant of any expression.

"He's not going to help," Roger shook his head. But then, to everyone's surprise, the Man, very slowly, extended a hand, his eyes never leaving Emily's mournful face, and pointed to a section on the map in front of him.

"Pier 92, Hudson River Park," Officer Kurtz announced, looking at the map. Smiling, Emily backed out of the room, mouthing a tearful _'thank you'_. Once back in the hall, she was greeted by her friends.

"How… how on earth did you get him to do that?" Joanne blinked in wonder.

"In the words of Marion C. Garretty," Emily replied with a smile, "_'__Mother love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do the impossible'_." At that moment, Officer Kurtz walked out.

"Miss Goodhall, a word?" Emily nodded obediently and moved further down the hall. "You know what this means? Us finally catching the remaining members of the Rat Fang Gang?"

"It'll be over," Emily responded. "There will be no need to worry about what's going to happen to me anymore."

"Yes. You can finally live a normal life. Zack should have been as lucky."

"So, what's the plan?"

"Normally, I'd just send out two squad cars…"

"But given the situation," Emily pointed out, "it might be best to take a page out of Zack's book, and use the covert approach."

"Right. This isn't like last time. They have a hostage as well, so things are a little more complicated. That's why I think the best course of action is to get someone in, undetected, and wait until they get Penny out before we move in."

"Exactly. And that person is me."

"Absolutely not. It's too dangerous."

"And that's my daughter," Emily insisted.

"You do realize that Penny's not legally your daughter yet, don't you?"

"Since when do you need a legal document to be someone's mother? My mom never had one. Does that mean she wasn't really Zack and my mother?"

"Miss Goodhall, please. If anything happened... Zack would never forgive me if anything happened to his sister on my watch."

"Uncle Kevin, these are the people who are responsible for my mom and dad's deaths, the people who indirectly brought about Zack's as well. They've taken everything. My family, my childhood, and they might even take Penny now. This is one of the only things I have left, the satisfaction of getting them in jail where they belong. Don't take that from me." Officer Kurtz remained silent for a long time before replying.

"You really are Zack's sister. There's no doubt of that. All right, Miss Goodhall. Be back here in one hour to prepare."

"Count on it," Emily replied, turning to walk off.


	21. Friendship is Thicker than Blood

Nana watched as Emily moved throughout what was once the Center's dining area.

"So you're really going to do this, then?" Nana asked.

"Yes, I am. That's my daughter on the line. I won't loose her like I lost Zack and my parents." Nana smiled sadly.

"Just be careful, then. And don't forget to take a water bottle with you, Emily," the old woman insisted. "You know perfectly well that, as a diabetic, you tend to get thirsty more then other people. And make sure you watch yourself if you get cut. You need to take care in preventing infections…"

"I'm not four years old anymore, Nana," Emily interrupted. "I can handle all the small stuff."

"I'm sorry for nagging," Nana apologized. "It's simply that, since I never was blessed with a child in my youth…." The old woman trailed off, a sudden look of pain on her aged face.

"You don't have to say it, Nana," Emily stated softly.

"I think of you as my own," Nana finished. Emily, after a brief hesitation, turned to the old woman and hugged her tightly.  
"I know. I'll come back, Nana. And I'll have Penny with me." With that, Emily walked out of the Center, but she froze on the front steps upon seeing the Bohemians were all standing there. "What are you guys doing here?"

"What do you think? We're here to help get Penny back," Mark replied

"I can't let you do that! This is my fight, not yours"

"Friends don't abandon friends in a pinch," Maureen insisted

"But… you could get yourselves killed."

"We all appreciate your concern, but _you _could get killed too." Joanne pointed out.

"I've been in danger my entire life, if you'd remember. It's not a new experience for me. If I'm for the Angel of Death, then I'll go to him without fuss. Because that would mean I'd finally see Zack and my parents again."

"Ungrateful brat!" Roger shot out.

"What?" Emily stared at him in shock.

"Your family gave their lives for you.," he growled. "Your parents degraded themselves to give you a good life. Your father died to save you. Zack got infected with AIDS because he was trying to keep you safe. How can you seriously consider throwing your life away, making all their sacrifices for you in vain?" Emily, upon hearing this reasoning, was visibly stunned to silence. Finally, she lowered her head in defeat.

"What else can I do? Everyone I've loved has died. Sooner or later, you have to start thinking 'what if it's you? What if _you _were the one meant to die, and everyone was just getting in the way of the inevitable?' I… I don't want anyone else sacrificing themselves for me," she admitted finally. "If anyone is going to die tonight, it will be me."

"You can't just accept death willingly if it presents itself, Emily," Mark persisted. "Roger's right. Your family gave their lives for you. You can't just give up everything their deaths gave you."

"Like what, Mark? I've lost my mother, father, and brother. I might lose Penny. I'm only human. I…I can only take so much loss. They always said that everything comes at a price. Well, what about me? My whole life, I've paid price after price, and got nothing back. What have I ever gotten in return for all the blood and tears?" Emily's question was met with a long silence.

"Us," Collins answered finally. "You got us. We're your friends, Emily. You asked a month ago what you did to deserve the friendship we all have for you. Don't you think that's what you got in return?" Slowly, as Collins' wisdom sank in, Emily replied with a warm smile, one that was accompanied by grateful tears.

"Perhaps… you might be right. And I _am _eternally grateful for everything you've done," she announced. "You gave your time and money to help keep the Center open. You found me a job. You stuck with me, despite knowing that the Rat Fangs might go after you, too. You even helped out in finding where they took Penny. You've all done so much for me already. It would be wrong to ask for more."

"Since when do you have to _ask _for a friend's help, Emily?" Mimi asked. "We've all had plenty of time to back out. There's no way we can do so now. That point's been crossed."

"Whatever happens now," Mark concluded, "we're all with you to the end." Emily was rooted to the spot for half a minute, but then moved right up to Mark, so they were facing one anther head-on. A moment later, she had pulled the filmmaker into a strong, thankful hug, one that he returned immediately.

* * *

"We've studied the ground plans of the warehouse," Officer Kurtz stated as he went through the briefing as he and the Bohemians hovered over the outline of the warehouse that served as the hideout for the Rat Fang Gang. "There are two places we can send people in undetected. The first is through a small hatch door in the roof, which can be reached by an old ladder on one side. The ladder itself is rather rusty and old, so this might be a task reserved for people who are rather light. It's also the most risky, because the only cover would be the shadows. The second is a more stealthy entrance. It turns out that this warehouse holds an entryway to an old bomb shelter. A person could enter through a second doorway a few blocks away, and come up into the warehouse though the bomb shelter."

"I can take the ladder," Mimi offered, with a mischievous smile. "After all those years of pole dancing at the Cat Scratch, that should be easy."

"I suppose it would," Officer Kurtz agreed. "It would be advisable, however, if you didn't do it alone. There is safety in numbers. Thus, I suggest the next two lightest people accompany Miss Marquez. And judging from just physical analysis, that would be Mr. Cohen and Miss Goodhall."

"That leaves the bomb shelter to me, Roger, Maureen, and Joanne," Collins mused.

"Actually, I have a special task for Miss Jefferson," Officer Kurtz stated. "We need someone to stay behind at the safety point located at the place Team Two will enter the bomb shelter. Once everyone has gotten back to that point, with Penny in tow, Miss Jefferson is to contact me immediately via radio. Once we get the all clear, the police squad that will be at the ready will move in.

"I want to make one thing known to all of you right now. Since none of you have actually gone through police training, what we are doing here is completely against regulations. I can't convey to you enough the danger you're putting yourselves through. There are a thousand ways something can go wrong. If anyone has even the slightest hesitation about this, now is the time to back away. No one will think any less of you."

"No way! We're in this to the end!" Maureen replied adamantly.

"Very well," Officer Kurtz nodded as the others expressed equal thought on the subject. "In that case, we best be off."

* * *

**AN:** How'd you like this chapter? Hope no one thought that Emily's little personal conflict came out of nowhere, 'cause I tried to drop hints of it here and there. If they were too subtle, I'm sorry, but in my defense, I didn't take notice of the personal downfalls Mark had in detaching until I saw the second half of 'Goodbye, Love' on the DVD's deleted scenes. From here on in, it's a wild ride down a rocky road. So, until next time...


	22. Into the Lions' Den

It took a half an hour before the Bohemians reached the entrance to the bomb shelter.

"Well, guess this is it," Maureen chuckled. "Think we'll all get through this all right?"

"With the best of luck," Joanne replied.

"Might take more then luck," Collins pointed out, before glancing up at the heavens. "Watch over us, Angel, baby." Collin's words were met with a brief respectful silence.

"Yeah. You too, Zack," Emily finally added. "You watch over us tonight, too, okay?" Emily's contribution to Collin's prayer made the Bohemians stop for a moment. Even though they had always known it, it wasn't until this moment that they fully comprehended that fact that Emily had never known Angel. As if sensing their unease, Emily smiled. "Hey, don't you be walking on eggshells or anything like that just because she and I never got a chance to meet. I understand she meant a lot to you, just like how Zack meant a lot to me. At least I can say I'm able to relate. Now, how's about we start trying to get Penny back?" And so, after Roger and Mimi & Maureen and Joanne had shared their 'good luck' kisses, the group split into their designated teams. The plan to rescue Penny had begun.

* * *

"Officer Kurtz?" Joanne's voice called through the police radio within the squad car.

"Yes, Miss Jefferson," Officer Kurtz answered. "What's the news?"

"The others are moving in now. Roger, Collins and Maureen have entered the bomb shelter, and Mark, Mimi and Emily have left to reach their entry point."

"Thanks, Miss Jefferson. Keep me posted."

"Will do." The second Officer Kurtz returned the mouthpiece to the holder, a second call came through.

"Miss Jefferson?"

"No," the voice of one of Officer Kurtz's fellow cops answered. "It's Officer Stewarts. I just got off the phone with the Chief. That drug dealer, the one who told us where to find the Rat Fangs. He's gone."

"What do you mean, 'gone'?"

"I mean he's escaped."

"What? How?"

"We're still trying to figure out, sir."

"Never mind," Officer Kurtz groaned. "For now, let's just concentrate on the matter at hand. We can track him down again some other time." However, as Officer Kurtz returned his focus on the current mission, he could not shake the feeling that the news of the Man's escape was more serious then it seemed.

* * *

Penny crouched huddled in the dark closet where the Rat Fangs had placed her the moment she had arrived at the warehouse. She still could remember the sight of Emily running after the car, a panicked look on her face. Penny knew that Emily would be coming to find her, sooner or later. Emily had promised time and time again that she would always protect her, and Emily never broke her promises. In the dark, Penny hugged Mr. Twiggers closer. Try as she might, she couldn't help but feel scared all the same.

"I wanna go home," she whispered. "Emily, where are you?"

* * *

At that present time, Emily was closer then Penny might have thought.

"Okay, who wants to go up the hazardously old-looking ladder first?" Mark chuckled nervously, studying the ancient fixture, which was covered in a thick layer of rust.

"You don't have to go up if you're unsure, Mark," Emily stated. "I'd understand."

"No," Mark shook off any wariness, reminding himself that the life of his friend's daughter was at stake. "I said I was going to help, and I am."

"If it helps, just pretend you're climbing the fire escape back home," Mimi offered. In the end, Mimi was the one who led the way up the ladder, followed by Emily, with Mark taking up the rear. The journey up the ladder went surprisingly well. Right before Mark was able to join Mimi and Emily up on the roof, however, the rung he had been placing his weight on snapped off completely. For the briefest moment, he was seized by the instant sensation of falling, but then, with only a second to spare, Mimi and Emily grabbed hold of his arms and worked together to hoist the filmmaker up the rest of the way.

"Close one," Mimi laughed.

"Yeah. Thanks guys," Mark smiled.

"Hey, told you before, Mark," Emily replied. "I don't want anyone else dying for my sake."

* * *

Inside the warehouse, a hatch in the floor opened, and Collins scanned the room.

"Looks like it's an all clear," he announced, climbing out of the bomb shelter, Roger and Maureen close behind.

"Hey, looks like a normal warehouse," Maureen stated, looking around at the piles of boxes surrounding them. "Are you sure this is the right place?" As she spoke, she placed a hand on one of the boxes. However, she obviously pushed too hard, or the boxes were just unstable to begin with, for they fell over, spilling the contents onto the warehouse floor. Roger's eyes fell upon the large amount of white powder, recognizing it immediately. The second he identified it, he could instantly feel a sudden craving deep in his veins. Despite how long he'd been clean, the craving would always be there until the day he died. It was like poison ivy. It drove you crazy if you did not scratch, but you knew that scratching the itch would make it worse.

"Yes, Maureen," Roger replied roughly, tearing his eyes away, forcing himself to resist. "I think this is _definitely _the right place." With that, Roger started to walk off, Collins and Maureen soon following his example.

* * *

Mark, Mimi and Emily crouched down behind a box-filled metal shelf, momentarily shocked by what they saw. The entire room was filled with Rat Fang members. Some were stacking boxes on other shelves, while others were distributing drug-filled bags to waiting drug dealers.

"I wouldn't be surprised if every drug dealer in the city was here," Mark stared in wonderment.

"Ooh," Emily suddenly breathed.

"What is it?" Mimi blinked, seeing the stunned look on her face.

"It's just that… most of these people actually knew my dad. Rather weird thinking that, you know?"

"Ow," Mark hissed suddenly as something small and hard collided with his temple. Looking down, he noticed a bottle cap from a bottle of stoli.

"Hey, that's from the same brand Collins buys," Mimi mused on closer examination. In realization, the trio glanced over to see Roger, Collins and Maureen were hiding behind the stack of boxes nearby. After making sure the members of the Rat Fang Gang weren't looking, they quickly moved to join them.

"No problems getting in, I hope?" Emily whispered.

"Nope. Angel and Zack must really be looking out for us," Maureen grinned. At that moment, a door opened across the room, and a six-foot-tall man walked in. He was of mixed heritage, so no one could accurately place him under any racial category, but there was a jagged scar beneath his right eye, which were blue-gray in color. The moment he entered the warehouse, the other Rat Fangs stopped what they were doing. This man was most definitely their leader.

"Welcome back, boss," One gang member, the one who had posed as Colmillo, greeted Kingpin.

"Did your mission go well?" Kingpin asked.

"Yes. We have the child. I can fetch her, if you wish."

"If I didn't want you to fetch her, I wouldn't have asked." Colmillo immediately hurried off, returning soon afterward with a seven year old child who as clutching a stuffed bunny like a security blanket.

"Penny," Emily moaned, seeing the small girl being pushed down in front of Kingpin.

"Hey there, cutie," Kingpin spoke in mock concern. "There's no need to be scared. No one here will hurt you. Once Miss Goodhall delivers the formula, then you can go skipping off on your merry way."

"Emily told me all about you people," Penny replied. "You're wasting your time. She'd never help you."

"If she values your well-being, I really think she will," Kingpin bent down so his face was an inch from Penny's. "Between you and me, I really hope she comes through. I'd hate to have to hurt my biological daughter." From their hiding place, the Bohemians all froze on hearing this.

"_His _biological daughter?" Mark gasped.

"What... do you mean?" Penny blinked.

"Look closely," Kingpin grinned deviously. "You've got my eyes." Penny glanced up at Kingpin's eyes and saw they were the same shade of blue-gray as hers. "My condolences about your mother, my poor child," Kingpin continued to taunt, this time taking a hold of Penny's chin between his thumb and index finger. "She was one of the best wenches I've ever had between the legs." Even though Penny didn't fully understand what Kingpin meant by what he said, she could tell by his tone that it wasn't pleasant. In retaliation, she bit down into Kingpin's index finger- hard.

"AHH!" Kingpin snarled. "YOU LITTLE…" Kingpin snatched a chain from a gang member who was standing nearby. From the Bohemian's hiding place, Collins felt something brush up against his shoulder hard, almost as if a rampaging rhino had charged past him. The next second, he realized what it was. Emily had abandoned their hiding place, and in a flash, she was between Kingpin and Penny, where she used her left arm as a shield. As a result, instead of coming down on Penny, the chain Kingpin was using like a whip wrapped itself around Emily's arm. The force of the blow caused the chain's links to cut into Emily's skin, drawing a slight flow of blood. However, so great was Emily's adrenaline-fueled rage, her brain failed to register pain.

"No…one…hurts…my…daughter," Emily snarled, shaking in absolute fury.

"What?" Kingpin was momentarily startled by Emily's sudden appearance.

"Guys!" Emily shot out an order to her friends. "Take Penny! Go!" Mark, acting on instinct, dashed out to get to Penny. But as soon as he got to her, he found they were surrounded by gang members. One of them tried to bring a switchblade down on them, but Penny suddenly used Mr. Twiggers as an improvised weapon, and swung the stuffed bunny in an arc. The switchblade sliced into the toy's belly, leaving an inch-and-a-half-long slash. In an instant, Collins and Roger had appeared and started holding the gang members off.

"Hey, Mark! You heard Emily!" Collins demanded. "Get the kid out of here." Obediently, Mark led Penny to the entryway to the bomb shelter. Once they reached it, Mark lowered the girl into the opening.

"Penny, listen to me. Follow this passage to get out. Take the first exit you come to. Joanne's waiting for you there."

"What about Emily and you guys?" Penny questioned in concern.

"We'll be fine. Now hurry before we're caught," Penny turned and hurried off with Mr. Twiggers in tow. No sooner that she was out of sight, a random gang member grabbed Mark from behind and dragged him back to the middle of the warehouse, where the filmmaker immediately saw that the others had all been captured.

"Mark, where's Penny?" Emily asked the second she saw him.

"She got out," Emily sighed in relief.

"At least _she's _safe." Kingpin suddenly cuffed the back of her head roughly.

"Too bad the same can't be said for you," he snarled.

* * *

Joanne looked up instantly as the door to the bomb shelter opened and Penny emerged.

"Oh, Penny!"

"Hi, Miss Joanne!" The girl grinned at seeing a familiar face.

"Where's everyone else?" Penny's smile disappeared instantly.

"They got caught," For almost a minute, Joanne was frozen. Then she went for the radio.

"Officer Kurtz, there's a problem."

"What sort of problem?"

"Penny's gotten out okay, but the others are still inside! The Rat Fangs got them." It took Officer Kurtz a while to respond.

"Da-n it!" he growled. Then, as an afterthought, "Penny, don't repeat that."

"I won't."

"What are we going to do?" Joanne asked the cop.

"We have no choice now. We have to move in, and hope that they're all still…. Miss Jefferson, you and Penny just stay there. And try to stay hopeful."

"I… I understand," Joanne whispered as the tears of worry and anguish began to fall. "Oh, Maureen, you guys. Please be all right."

* * *

**AN: **I'm sorry if anyone thinks this chapter jumped around too much. Many times, I was trying to find a way to tie scenes together. Hope it didn't hurt the story too much.  
A little warning in advance. The next chapter might cause the rating for this fic to increase. It depends on your opinion on where the line between T and M resides.  
Also, there are only two chapters left to be posted, plus an epilogue. They may be up tonight or tomorrow. Can't say for sure. Until next time...


	23. Lucky Fools

**AN:** Hey! Noticed I changed the genre from general/suspense to drama/suspense? Looking back, I realized that this story fits more under its new category.

* * *

Kingpin glared down at the Bohemians, who were now all chained back-to-back to each other in twos. Roger with Mimi, Collins with Emily, and Mark with Maureen. The Bohemians were being confined to a small room within the warehouse, with random members of the Rat Fangs surrounding them.

"Forget the little whelp. We have the Goodhall brat, so there's no need for a bargaining chip," Kingpin sneered, glancing down at Emily and taking her chin roughly between his thumb and index finger, forcing her to face him. "Yes, this is definitely one of Zeke's brood. Looks just like that Natalie bit-h."

"Don't you _dare_ insult my mother!" Emily snarled, struggling to lunge at Kingpin, who laughed cruelly at her pitiful attempt.

"She's got Zeke's personality, too."

"Hey, how about releasing us and facing us fairly, instead of kicking us while we're down?" Roger snapped.

"Ah," Kingpin turned his attention to Roger. "The rocker look, complete with the hair and leather jacket, and a short temper to boot. I know who _you _are. He told us all about you."

"He? Who he?" At that moment, a switchblade appeared at Roger's throat.

"Told you before, Lover Boy." The horribly familiar voice caused Roger's green eyes to widen in sudden fear. "Steal my client, you die."

"You," Roger glared up at the Man.

"Thank you once again, my slippery friend," Kingpin smirked at the drug dealer. "We can't thank you enough for informing us that our guests would be stopping by."

"Oh, I get it!" Maureen glowered. "He wasn't trying to be helpful when he told us where Penny was! He was sending us all into a trap!"

"I can promise you, Davis," the Man spoke menacingly, lightly running the switchblade over Roger's neck, just hard enough to scratch the skin. "I _will_ enjoy this."

"Wait, my friend," Kingpin stopped him. "I have a much _better _idea in mind." It took Roger a moment to register the fact that Kingpin was now eyeing Mimi in an evaluating manner while whispering in The Man's ear, a fact that made the musician's heart flutter with foreboding. The apprehension doubled as The Man's face broke into a cruel grin. "Men?" Kingpin turned to the other gang members. "¿Quién está para arriba para un compañero de la cama?" It wasn't the sound of the boisterous laughter of the gang members that made Roger truly worry; it was the fact that he could feel Mimi stiffen at Kingpin's words.

"Mimi, Baby!" Roger whispered to her urgently. "What did he say?"

"Rog, I…" Even Mimi's voice was shaking, which did nothing to assure Roger.

"What did he say, Meems? Tell me!" Roger begged, feeling the tears starting to form. Mimi's reply came in a barely audible whisper.

"He... asked if… anyone was interested… in a bed mate."

"NO!" Roger screamed as he felt one of the gang members pull her away from him. "NO! Don't touch her! Don't you dare…!"

"No worries, Davis," the Man sneered, pulling the musician to his feet roughly. "_You_ get to watch. Every single moment of it." Without another word, the Man and two other gang members dragged the struggling pair out of the room.

"Leave them alone!" Emily cried. "Your quarrel's with me! They did nothing!"

"Precisely," Kingpin replied. "Perhaps seeing your precious friends suffer will convince you to give us the formula."

"She doesn't know where the formula is! Why can't you understand that?" Mark tried to defend. At Kingpin's signal, one of the gang members struck Mark's temple. "Stop!" Emily pleaded. "Don't… he's telling the truth!"

"Let's go," Kingpin told his men, ignoring Emily. "Leave Little Miss Goodhall to think things over." With that, Kingpin and the rest of the Rat Fangs left the room, closing the door behind them.

"Mark, are you okay?" Emily asked, once the door was closed.

"Yeah. Just a little sore."

"What are we going to do?" Maureen whined.

"Hey, Collins?" Emily asked suddenly. "Do you think you can reach into my back pocket, the one on the left?"

"I think so. Why?"

"Just put a little faith in me, okay?" Collins strained to reposition himself as best as possible in order to reach into Emily's pocket.

"Oh, sorry 'bout that," he apologized after he finally managed to stick three of his fingers into the requested pocket.

"Think nothing of it. Although, if you were straight, I'd have to kick your tailbone in later." The two shared a laugh.

"Hey, what's that?" Collins frowned as he felt something hard and thin inside Emily's pocket.

"Precisely what I need. Take it out and try to hand it to me, okay?"

"Of course, but what is…. Hold up! Is that your bobby pin-turned-lock pick?"

"Sure is!" Emily grinned. "This is precisely the type of situation Zack had in mind when he taught me to pick handcuff locks." Collins pulled out the length of wire and maneuvered it to Emily's waiting hand, which immediately placed it into the keyhole. "Come on, come on…" Emily whispered, half to herself and half to the homemade lock pick. Three minutes later, the click of the lock being opened was heard. As soon as she was free, Emily quickly moved to help Collins, Mark, and Maureen. Once everyone was free, Collins moved to the door, which, by a stroke of luck, had been left unlocked. The group found even more luck in the fact that there was no gang member in sight.

"Listen, guys," Emily began. "You three get out through the bomb shelter and join up with Joanne and Penny. Tell them to call Officer Kurtz to get his men down here."

"What about you?" Mark turned to the photographer.

"I'm going to find Mimi and Roger, of course. I'm not leaving anyone behind. They're only in this mess because of me. They stuck with me, so I'm going to stick with them."

"You sure?"

"I helped you out when you crashed your bike outside The Center, you helped raise money to try and keep it open. I made you dinner, you stayed with me after finding out about the Rat Fangs. You agreed to help out in getting Penny back. You see, I have yet to pay you back for that. This is how I choose to do so- making sure everyone of you gets out of this safely." When Mark continued to hesitate, Emily went on. "Go! I'll be all right. I promise."

"Well, if you insist on staying, you're not going to let that cut continue to bleed," he announced, removing his scarf. "Here." Mark quickly stepped up to Emily's side and used his scarf to make a makeshift bandage, covering the gashes Emily had received when the chain had struck her arm.

"Thanks, Mark," Emily smiled. "I promise I'll personally wash it later." Once her friends had left through the bomb shelter, Emily set off to find Roger and Mimi.

* * *

Elsewhere, Roger was chained and padlocked to a bar on a metal shelf that stood perpendicular against a wall, his head currently hung in despair with his face hidden by his long unruly locks. Mimi. His girl. His love. His soul-mate. These basta-ds, they were going to…. He couldn't even bear to think about it. Roger felt the hot tears flowing down the rough stubble on his cheeks. He didn't know what was killing him more. The fact that he'd be forced to watch every single moment, or the fact that he couldn't do anything to protect or save her.

At that moment, he heard footsteps and the sounds of struggle coming closer. Seconds later, a gang member appeared, pulling a struggling Mimi with him.

"Roger!" Mimi managed to break away the moment she saw her musician, taking his face in her hands, running her thumbs across his lower lip lovingly. A second later, the gang member dragged her away and pinned her against the warehouse wall. "Don't touch me!" she shouted.

"Hey, don't act so disgusted, beautiful," the gang member laughed as he started to fondle Mimi's breast roughly. "You should be used to this, after living as a whore at a strip club. You definitely _will _be once we're through. It's been such a long time since the boys and I have had the pleasure of a woman's flesh." Roger seethed with fury at the sight of Gang Member tearing Mimi's shirt right down the middle, exposing everything from the navel up, coupled with the sound of Mimi's pleading whimpers. "Oh, _yes_. You definitely got the goods, little missy," Gang Member snarled, thrusting his hand into Mimi's lacy bra, pressing and squeezing brutally.

"Get your hands off her!" Roger barked, straining against the chains that were tightly wrapped around his wrists.

"No need to get possessive, pretty boy," Gang Member snapped without turning around, seconds before licking Mimi's neck. "Didn't your mama ever teach you to share your toys? I suggest you get accustomed to it. There are at least fifteen of my associates yearning for a go after me." It was upon hearing that Roger finally accepted the obvious hopelessness of the situation. He had to watch as the love of his life was treated like a piece of meat, and there was nothing he could do about it. However, at that moment he felt a hand clamp down upon his mouth. Glancing over, he saw Emily holding a finger to her lips, signaling him to be quiet. A shocked smile instantly broke out on Roger's face.

_'How'd you get out?_' he mouthed. Emily responded in a mouthed _'tell you later_', before taking out her homemade lock-pick and using it to try and open the padlock that kept the chains fastened to Roger's wrists, taking a conscious effort to refrain from making noise. Fortunately for them, luck was once again on their side, for Gang Member was too involved with Mimi that he didn't notice what was happening behind him. Once Roger was free, he sent up a grateful nod to Emily. But the sound of Mimi's disgusted cry snapped him back to attention. Gang Member's hand, to Roger's immense rage, had abandoned Mimi's breast, and had migrated to stroke beneath her skirt. In a flash, Roger had grabbed Gang Member's arm and yanked him away from his girlfriend, delivering a brutal punch to his face. The force of the blow sent Gang Member to the ground, where he hit his head against the concrete floor, loosing consciousness instantly. Mimi instantly fell against Roger, fighting back sobs. The musician held her protectively, as if she would automatically disappear if he didn't hold her as tight as he could, all the while whispering comforting words into her hair.

"Hey, guys," Emily whispered, moving over to the lovers. "You should understand that I am a major romantic and all, and I wish I didn't have to interrupt your moment, but we really need to get out of here, before our friend wakes up, or someone else comes along." Both Roger and Mimi had to admit that their photographer friend had a point. But before they left Gang Member to 'sleep it off', Emily took off her Yankees jersey, revealing a plain blue t-shirt underneath, and handed it to Mimi. "Here. Cover yourself up," Emily offered, obviously taking note of the fact Mimi's shirt could no longer do the job.

"Wow," Mimi smiled, as she pulled on the jersey. "Emily, I think this is the first time we've ever seen you without that jersey."

"What's your point?" Emily asked unsurely.

"I just think you should try keeping it off more often, that's all. It makes you look less like a tomboy," Emily just shrugged off Mimi's statement, but with a grin. As the trio snuck through the warehouse, trying to avoid being spotted by any gang members, Roger suddenly remembered he'd never thanked Emily for helping save Mimi.

"Yeah, forget about it," Emily replied to the thanks, with a slight morose tone to her voice.

"What's wrong?" Emily slowly held up a tiny piece of a bobby pin.

"My lock-pick," she explained with the beginnings of an amused smirk forming on the corners of her mouth. "It broke when I was working on the padlock." Both Roger and Mimi had to stifle laughs.

"Guess it died in the line of duty then," Roger joked.

"Just as well. I mean, if everything continues to go well, after tonight, the Rat Fangs will be in jail. So there will no longer be a need for it."

"Too bad your luck stops here, Goodhall brat," An icy voice hissed. The three friends froze as Kingpin suddenly emerged from behind a pillar of boxes, a switchblade drawn. "Do not run," Kingpin ordered as they begin to back away. "We can make a bargain. You know what I want."

"For the final time!" Emily moaned in exasperation. "My dad never told me about the formula! I have no idea where it is! Can't you get that though your head?"

"Stubborn, just like your idiot father," Kingpin smirked. "But my patience is wearing thin. Just tell me what I need to know, and your friends go free."

"And even if I did know where the formula was, and agreed to cooperate, you'd just kill me in the end, am I right?" Emily snapped. "Just like how my parents were killed under your orders."

"What's wrong, Goodhall? Don't want to see your family again?" Kingpin taunted. "Your friends are free to go, but you are not."

"Sorry," Mimi glared, stepping up to Emily's side. "But if you think we'll stand aside and abandon Emily, you're even more delusional then we thought."

"Guys…" Emily began.

"Don't even try to 'reason' with us, Emily," Roger insisted. "You'll find we can be even more stubborn then you."

"Just like Zack," Emily whispered, just loud enough for the two to hear. "Once you get your minds set on something, almost nothing can distract you guys."

"Last chance Goodhall!" Kingpin demanded. "The formula or death!"

"I do NOT have any formula!"

"Fine. Your choice." With that, Kingpin went for Emily and Mimi. Moving at inhuman speed, Roger grabbed a hold of the weapon before it came close to the girls, the blade cutting through his hand. Emily stiffened immediately upon seeing the blood flowing down Roger's arm. For a brief moment, Mimi feared that Emily would be seized by another fainting spell, just like she had done after seeing Madison's body. The photographer certainly did look pale, like she had done back then. But then, to the Latina dancer's great surprise, Emily's reaction shifted a different way, and her face contorted in hate and rage.

"Not again," she snarled. "Not again. No one's gonna die for my sake again!" At that moment, Emily lunged forward at Kingpin. The gang leader hesitated before reacting, either because he was genuinely caught off guard, or he hadn't expected Emily to take such a drastic action. His shock quickly disappeared, but not quick enough to prevent Emily from latching onto his neck from behind, the pit of her elbow pressing against his Adam's apple.

"Wench! Get off!" Kingpin growled, violently backing into the wall, in an effort to knock Emily off. Roger was just about to move to help his friend, but Mimi held him back.

"Rog, you're bleeding!" she reminded. "If you get your blood on Emily…."

"I know," Roger replied, the worry in his voice evident. It was clear that Emily wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. But at that moment, a gunshot rang out, and Kingpin dropped to the ground, clutching his leg, now wounded from a bullet from the gun wielded by Officer Kurtz, who was currently standing a few feet away from the group.

"Over here!" he called to his fellow cops, who were all rounding up the Rat Fangs, making sure none escaped this time. "We have the ringleader! And get Dr. Jordan here, as well!" Officer Kurtz added, evaluating Roger's bleeding hand, and a partially dazed Emily slouched against the wall.

"Hey, Officer Kurtz," Roger chuckled, trying not to appear too shaken. "Great timing."

"You people are some lucky fools," Officer Kurtz replied seriously. "If Miss Jefferson had called a second later, we might not have made it in time." Roger forced a laugh before joining Mimi in checking up on Emily, who was currently regaining her senses.

"Hey," Emily smiled weakly. "It's over then, huh?"

"Yeah" Mimi returned the smile. "Never a dull moment for you, is there?"

"Nope," Emily agreed. "So, how do you guys like me so far?" The three friends couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

**AN: **Okay, once again, I'm sorry if the ending seemed rushed. But I thought that it would start becoming far-fetched if the end sequence was drawn out.  
I also hope the scene with Mimi and the Gang Member didn't make reading this chapter too uncomfortable. I was trying to keep it tame enough to keep this story at a T rating, but at the same time, it had to be graphic enough to get the point across. Difficult place to get to, you know? So, what did you think?  
Only two more installments left, and then the story will be complete. I think I'll post them tonight, even. So, until next time...


	24. Mr Twigger's Secret

The NYPD moved about the warehouse, some checking the building for any more abducted people, others pushing the members of the Rat Fang Gang into squad cars. In the corner, Dr. Jordan was examining the gashes in Emily's arm, the relics from the strike of the chain meant for Penny, with Officer Kurtz, Roger, who now had a temporary bandage on his hand, and Mimi standing nearby.

"Well, Miss Goodhall, nothing seems to be broken, but I do suggest coming down to the hospital so we can properly treat this. It wouldn't hurt to check for internal bleeding after you got battered up a bit back there."

"Ironic, isn't it?" Emily chuckled, looking at her arm. "This might become a scar. Then I can say I got one from protecting Penny, just like how Zack got a scar from protecting me."

"Let's just hope you don't get it contaminated like Zack did. Mrs. Chang, for starters, would be heartbroken if she had to see the entire Goodhall clan go extinct."

"Funny," Emily replied dryly. "Very amusing."

"Which reminds me," Dr. Jordan went on. You should come down with Miss Goodhall, Mr. Davis. We might need to put some stitches in that hand. There's no need to worry, though," the doctor added quickly as Roger opened his mouth to say something. "Many of my associates know all about HIV, and are not too afraid to treat patients with it." At that moment, Mark, Collins, Joanne and Maureen walked up, with Penny following close behind. Maureen was holding Mr. Twiggers, who had some of the stuffing leaking out of the large gash from the switch blade. The second Penny saw Emily she broke into a run.

"Emily!"

"Penny?" Emily leaped forward, embracing the small child. "Oh, thank heavens you're safe. Look at me, sweetie. Did they hurt you?"

"Miss Goodhall, I think it might be a good idea if we take Penny to the hospital as well. There's no telling what happened to her before she was rescued," Dr. Jordan informed. Emily looked up suddenly, her face betraying fear. "It's okay. She will be safe. The Rat Fangs are all in police custody. They can't take her again." Emily sighed and relented. "Come on, then, Penny." Dr. Jordan announced, leading the girl away. "We should get going." Penny glanced unsurely at Emily.

"Go on," Emily assured. "I'll join you in five minutes." Smiling broadly, Penny hugged Emily, who eagerly returned the embrace before the little girl left with Dr. Jordan. "Mark, I'll give you back your scarf later, okay?" Emily grinned, holding up the slightly blood-stained gray and blue scarf that had been lying next to her. "And thanks for loaning it to me."

"Anytime," Mark smiled back.

"Hey, hold on," Maureen spoke suddenly, looking closely at the slashed Mr. Twiggers. "Guys, look at this." She reached into the large tear in the stuffed rabbit and pulled out a scrap of paper."

"Let me see that," Officer Kurtz took the paper from Maureen and examined the writing on it. "…heat into liquid form, and then combine… Oh…" Officer Kurtz suddenly started to laugh. "Miss Goodhall, your father was a certified genius!"

"Someone want to explain what that paper is?" Mark asked.

"This is what they were looking for," Officer Kurtz announced. "This is the formula for that master drug they had been trying to make, the one Miss Goodhall's father stole when he went AWOL and took his family into hiding."

"Wait just a moment!" Emily gaped in surprise, taking the formula. "Do you mean that this whole time, _this _was hidden inside Mr. Twiggers?"

"Brilliant!" Joanne smiled. "Not even the most hardened drug dealer would think to look for something like this inside a child's stuffed toy." Emily stared at the formula for almost a minute.

"Mark, could you loan me your Zippo?" Once Mark had handed Emily the lighter, she used it to set fire to the formula.

"Hey, you sure that's a wise move, Emily?" Collins asked.

"That accursed paper cost the lives of my entire family," Emily replied. "It's more trouble then it's worth. It should have been destroyed long ago. Besides, without that formula, there won't be a need to worry about anyone else hunting me down to find it. And that means, I can finally get the life my family wanted for me. A normal one." The Bohemians all watched the formula burn, until it was nothing but a small pile of ash.

"Come on, Emily," Mimi said after a long pause. "Dr. Jordan's right. You and Roger both need to get medical attention."

"You guys go," Emily waved. "I'll join you in just one moment." As soon as Emily was alone, she lightly stroked her locket. "It's over, Zack," she whispered. "Tell Mom and Dad, it's finally over. You can all rest easily now. I can finally live the safe life you wanted for me.**  
**

* * *

**AN:** Okay, honestly, who saw that coming: Mr. Twiggers being the location of the formula? If you saw it coming, pat yourselves on the back, you're very good at guessing. If not, yay, I surprised you! Anyway, only the epilogue is left, and that will be up right after I post this.


	25. Epilogue

"Close up: Emily Goodhall, with the former Penny Hollingsworth, now known as Penny Goodhall. Emily has just gotten back from meeting with the agency to sign the last of Penny's adoption papers. Our Bohemian family has just gained two new members, but this is the first time we've had a child in our group." Emily, hearing Mark's narration, turned her head slightly and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, before turning her back on him. A second later, she spun around, and surprised Mark by taking a picture of him filming her with her Nikon FM2. Roger, who had been watching nearby, laughed loudly.

"Finally, someone gives him a taste of his own medicine!" he teased. "Now you know what it's like to have someone sticking a camera in your face, Mark!"

"Oh shut up," Mark scowled.

"Aw, don't listen to him, Mark," Emily smiled. "You have my permission to film me anytime you want."

Mark, Roger, Mimi, Emily and Penny were congregated outside the Life Café, waiting for Maureen, Joanne and Collins to arrive. They were all gathering for a celebratory dinner, commemorating Emily finally being able to adopt Penny. The little girl's freckled face was currently lit up in child-like happiness, showing no sign of emotional trauma from her abduction, while hugging Mr. Twiggers, who was now sporting a one-and-a-half-inch long seam down the stuffed rabbit's belly from where the knife slash had been sewed up.

"_There _are the ladies of the hour!" Collins chortled as he finally arrived with Maureen and Joanne, all three hugging Emily and Penny in greeting.

"So, Emily," Joanne smiled. "You ready for tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Emily nodded. "Just can't believe it's finally going to be over. The Rat Fangs in jail. Those are words I _never _thought I'd say. We really did get them, didn't we?"

"How's it feel?" Maureen asked

"Surprisingly, a little nerve-racking. But that's probably just from the fact I have to testify against them in court tomorrow."

"You'll be fine," Joanne reassured. "I'll be there the whole time, representing you."

"And everyone else will be in the back of the room to cheer you on," Collins agreed. Emily flashed all of them a grateful smile. "Now then, how's about we get this party started? Time to order up the rounds of wine and beer!"

"Uncle Collins!" Penny cried. The sound of someone calling him 'uncle' brought a large grin to the anarchist's face. "Mom says I'm not allowed to have that stuff 'til I'm older!"

"Oh, I'm sure she can make an exception…"

"Absolutely not!" Emily cried. "Collins, I respect the fact that you're an anarchist, and don't hold much regard for the laws. Please respect that I'm a cop's sister, so laws and regulations pretty much count double for me."

"Aw, don't worry, Emily," Mimi laughed, ruffling Penny's hair. "We'll order her a root beer instead."

"Thank you, Mimi. Nice to know that I'm not the only one who exercises child discretion." At that moment, a squad car that was driving by pulled up to the curve and Officer Kurtz stepped out.

"I thought I'd find you all here," he smiled.

"Hello, Officer Kurtz," Mark waved. "What brings you here?"

"I'm surprised you ask. You lot helped us all out a great deal, after all. If it weren't for you, the Rat Fangs would still be running free."

"No big deal," Roger waved the praise away.

"You're wrong, Mr. Davis. It is a _very_ big deal. That's why I'm down here. I have things for you." Officer Kurtz removed a large briefcase from his car and opened it, revealing seven portable police radios and pagers. "They're yours," he announced. "If you ever need assistance, or if we could ever use your help again, we can contact one another with these."

"Are you serious?" Mimi gaped.

"I've never been more serious in my life. Also, Miss Goodhall," Officer Kurtz turned to Emily. "Mr. Davis told me you broke your homemade lock pick in the warehouse that night we caught the Rat Fangs. So, Beverly and I went and got this for you." As he spoke, Officer Kurtz handed the photographer a large leather pouch, which she opened to reveal a lock pick set. "There are sixty-two different lock picks in there, all manufactured using the finest spring steel available, durable and rust resist. And stainless steel handles to provide maximum picking comfort." Emily gazed at Officer Kurtz's gift in awe.

"Wow," Emily whispered once she had found her voice. "It's… wow!"

"Think nothing of it, Miss Goodhall," Officer Kurtz beamed at Emily's obvious gratitude. "For what it's worth," he added, before stepping back into the squad car to drive off, "I know Zack would have been very proud of you."

"Thanks, Uncle Kevin," Emily smiled after he had driven off, turning to the waiting Bohemians. "But I already _know _my brother's proud of me. Why else would he send me six of the greatest friends anyone could ask for?" Grinning broadly, Emily accompanied her new family into the Life Café to begin the celebration.

* * *

**AN:** And that's where this story ends! Hope you all enjoyed it. If anyone wishes to see more, (If you don't, I'll understand) please let me know. Remember, one can never have enough reviews.  
In closing, I wish to thank everyone who's taken the time to read, and even more time to review. I really appreciate your feedback. Until next time, this is Data Girl 3, signing off...


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